Bloom
by vanagonne
Summary: A series of beginnings and moments between Elena and Damon set in the spaces among and between seasons 4 and 5. No sire bond, no hunt for the cure. Just Elena and Damon had the writers given them a proper beginning to their romance. Touches on many issues that I feel have been skimmed over in the show, Rating will likely change.
1. Chapter 1

Part One:

It was surprising to Damon just how many little things he'd missed while getting to know Elena. Sure, he'd noticed she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was nervous and the way she always looked at her feet when she laughed. There were a million little mannerisms he'd memorized and dubbed Elena specific.

The day she looked at him differently he was sober as a nun on Easter and well on his way to withdrawal. Low on blood, low on booze, low on pussy. He was cranky.

He had spent the entire day trying to make good with his brooding brother. He hated the scowl plastered across Stefan's face and he hated that it was he who had put it there. He pieced it together fairly quickly at the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant. Elena looked at him glassy eyed, chest held in a tense full breath, lips swollen and parted. He had to look away.

She chased him down after the pageant, calling his name as he grasped the door handle to his car. She ended up in the passenger seat controlling the radio dial with unsteady fingers. She smelled like the vanilla of her shampoo heated by the sun and the sweet sweat that pinpricked across her body.

Her youth making an appearance, she blurted out, "We need to talk." Her voice was a little hoarse and by the sound of her swallow he could tell her throat was tight. She either needed to feed or she was very nervous. Probably a bit of both.

He honed in on her pulse behind the music. It was slower than it was when she was a human but he still detected the flutter in its pace.

"About?" he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the road.

She looked out of the window then, and sighed a little. He knew exactly what she wanted to talk about but he gave her time anyway. He almost relented when he saw her visibly struggling with the words. This was worse than Denver with her erratic breathing and sweaty palms. He'd been too tired then, and far too impatient to leave her be in that hallway. It was all pent up tension and a release and mourning of a man they both loved. It wasn't this.

Denver came and went along with the memory of the insides of her mouth and the taste of her tongue she had left on the roof of his. She regretted it moments after it happened and even more so as the guilt consumed her. He'd be lying if he said the guilt didn't give him a swift kick in the ass as they fought ruthlessly to bring Stefan back to them.

Now the guilt washed over him as his heart yearned for her to profess some undying love for him and only him even though he promised himself he'd turn her away for the sake of brotherhood. She was young, she was going through another phase. Stefan was good for her and Damon was dangerous. The good girl always veered away from what was perfect for her by a darker version of herself. Same old story. She'd have her taste of him and when he was finished filling that void in her heart she'd miss what he wouldn't give her but his brother could; epic fucking love. The little kisses on her nose and roses on Valentines day would be replaced by nipping at her neck til he drew blood and making her cry just so he could make her smile again. That's what she was signing up for.

They arrived at the boarding house just as Stefan was leaving. Elena all but hid behind him as Stefan brushed past them with a clenched jaw and sad eyes. Damon pretended not to notice the tension and called out to his brother, "Where you headed?"

Stefan just waved him off and slid off on his little crotch rocket. It was very James Dean and too dramatic for his empty stomach. He remedied that with a healthy glass of bourbon after he shuffled Elena into the house.

He felt her eyes on him as he downed the third glass and sank into a chair next to where she was perched on the love seat. He let out a long content sigh and let his arms fall loosely over the arms of the chair. He decided he'd finally take the bite when she didn't make a move for a full three minutes.

Damon slowly let his eyes shift to meet hers. They were still so glassy like she'd been holding in tears or had gotten into her stash of pain pills she thought nobody knew she hid in her pillowcase since sophomore year.

"What is it Elena?" he asked, his voice coming out far more gentle than he expected. He felt anything but gentle at the moment. His heart twisted between indulging in her teenage fantasy and running after his heartbroken little brother.

She relaxed a little then, her shoulders falling and chin dropping. The fire still crackled where Stefan had left it and he watched the strands of her hair catch the orange glow of the flames. Her long and thin fingers moved to tuck a few loose tendrils behind her ears. He knew her dress must be uncomfortably tight from the way her chest strained and spilled over the seams of the top. When he realized his eyes were tracing the curve of her breasts, he looked away.

Her voice was so small when she admitted with hopefulness, "I really wanted to dance with you today."

No. No, he wasn't going to take the bite after all. This wouldn't be another Denver where he crossed the lines that she drew up just to tempt herself to step over. He wouldn't let her press her mouth into his or press her up against a wall so he could take her quickly before she could have time to reflect and change her mind.

"I would have danced with you," Damon offered in faux cluelessness.

"I broke up with Stefan today," she went on, her voice becoming stronger and chin a little higher.

Damon sighed heavily and responded in like, "do you think my brother and I don't talk?"

She cringed a little but recovered quickly to stare unwaveringly into his relaxed gaze. The bourbon made him bite.

"I think that sometimes things don't get said that should," she retorted.

Damon leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and move his face closer to hers. His heart probably betrayed him as it picked up its pace despite the calmness of his voice, "he told me what I needed to know."

"He told you why?" she asked, surprise with an almost mask of contempt set on her lips.

Damon had to hold back a chuckle. God she was so damn young. Too young to be meddling between two love stricken old men. He wanted to make it easier for her and pull her into a hug and whisper that he'd pick up where Stefan left off and everything would be romantic-comedy-perfect. Maybe if Denver had never happened he'd be foolish enough to do it.

"I think you need to think harder on this one Elena. I think you need to adjust longer to being a vampire and sort out the real from the want." Damon forced the words out with all the bourbon in his veins and almost squeezed his eyes shut as she stood quickly to look down at his hunched form.

"It's _all_ I've thought about. I love him enough to be honest with him…and to you," she hissed, a tear dropping onto his clasped hands.

He let it soak there, pooling into the subtle young creases of his old hands. Without looking at her he reached out to touch her fingers. When his fingertips grazed hers he murmured, "That's your problem Gilbert, you love too damn much."

Xxxx

When she left the Salvatore boarding house she knew by the way he looked at her as she glanced back over her shoulder, he felt it too. He felt that pull that was there, the jolt when their eyes met. His words of letting her vampire side settle before she made any rash decisions rang true. Maybe if he had understood how close she teetered on this thick red line she drew between herself and her lover's brother, he'd believe her intentions.

The thing about Damon Salvatore was that he rarely believed in good intentions from anyone.

She tossed her purse on the couch before taking the stairs in twos to her room. She immediately shed her dress and hose to fall back onto her mattress. Her skin was creased with the imprints of her too tight dress and she traced with feather light fingers the twin creases that ran along her rib cage.

Her phone buzzed from her nightstand and she smiled when she saw Damon's name appear with a short text: _you need to drive slower young lady._

Elena opened the text and glanced at the extremely old texts above the new one. It felt strange to see the short _you ok?_'s and _Where are you?_'s that she responded with _I'm fine_'s and _tell Stefan to call me at Bonnie's_.

She clicked back _your eyes deceive you; I always obey the laws of the road._

She waited a while, eyes glazing over as she waited for his reply that didn't come. She wasn't sure how long her fingers hovered above the text, refreshing the screen, but eventually she fell asleep.

Xxxx

Damon woke to the sound of his phone vibrating under his pillow. He slid his hand underneath his cheek without opening his eyes. Squinting into the sun that pierced through the parted curtains he read the text that lit the screen. _Can I come over?_

_Since when do you ask?_ He sent the text as he stood with a loud yawn and stretched on his tip toes.

He heard the front door open and shut and the clatter of Elena's purse dropping on the entryway table. He shook his head and rolled his eyes a little at her complete lack of patience. He moved to his dresser, tugging slightly at his loose fitting boxers. Morning wood aside, he felt he had a decent handle on things.

That all went out the window of course when he turned to see her leaning against his door frame all cute and shit. Her hair was in a high pony tail and the only make up she had bothered with that morning was a smear of lip gloss. She was in a long maxi dress and flip flops that clanked noisily against her heels as she made her way to his side.

He folded his arms over his bare chest and tilted his head to the side in question as she turned to stand in front of him.

"I left some things here and needed to get them," she admitted, folding her arms to mirror his stance.

"Ok," he replied dully, raising his eyebrows in question.

Her eyes flicked between his for a few beats before she sighed and said softly, "Ok…" and turned on her heels towards Stefan's room.

He tugged on a shirt and dark jeans before heading down the stairs to pour himself a drink. He could hear her making a mess of things in Stefan's room and cringed a little when he heard glass break. Instead of calling out to her, he crept up the stairs bourbon in hand. He found her with tear stains on her cheeks and a broken picture frame on the floor. He took a gulp from his glass before setting it noisily on Stefan's bookshelf.

"Finally hitting you kiddo?" he murmured, stooping down to collect the shards of glass from the dusty wood floor.

She brushed the tears away and shrugged, grabbing the already packed box of her things that was placed neatly on Stefan's desk. Damon knew she needed to do the girly thing and cry with her girl pals over a bowl of ice cream and a bag of blood…but that didn't stop him from placing a hand on the top of her head. He'd seen Ric do it several times instead of pulling her into a hug. It was a fatherly gesture that beat the awkwardness of bodies pressing into each other.

Instead of calming her down it seemed to enflame some sort of fiery madness inside of her. Her eyes flashed in anger and she pushed his arm away, not even flinching when his fingers tangled and yanked her hair. He jerked his head back in surprise and lips parted in question.

"_Kiddo_? _Young_ Lady? I'm not some little girl Damon. I get that you're in a tough spot between me and your brother. But I…" she raked a hand through her hair and bit her lip, looking away.

He bit back the very real retort bubbling in his throat. She _was_ just a little girl. A little girl who just broke up with her first true love because of some fantasy that a dark man could be fixed and molded into her knight in shining armor. He wasn't buying it this time. He wasn't setting himself up for it. Ever.

"The only spot I'm in is wondering what the hell is going on here Elena. If there's something you're looking for here you're just going to have to ask for it."

He shouldn't have thrown that in because now he knew she'd ask things of him he wasn't sure he could give. He just kept picturing her face as she rushed into his lips in that hallway back in Denver. It was a look of defeat and he didn't want to be something she gave into. He didn't want to be the temptation that she'd regret later when she realized he couldn't be changed or molded. Not by her, not by anyone.

She held her head a little higher, eyes willing his to meet hers and she spoke with that Petrova fire that always flicked sharply at his chest, "I want you."

He groaned and let his head fall back to thump heavily against the wall. He spoke to the ceiling loudly in a tone of frustration, "for how long?"

She didn't answer but he knew he must have hurt her…or angered her further. She pushed past him without a word and he could hear her toss the box in the back of her car and speed away from the house in a cloud of dust.

Xxxx

Elena left the box on the kitchen table and immediately grabbed a bottle of wine from the wine rack. She didn't bother with a bottle opener, she just thrust her pinkie into the cork like stone through butter and pulled it out with a loud _pop_. She didn't care that the deep purple seeped out of the corners of her mouth or ran in staining streaks down her dress. She just kept drinking.

As a human an entire bottle of wine downed in minutes would have her passed out in her vomit but now she drained it with ease. Drunk and less likely to punch something, she set out to land on her bed and just sleep.

Her phone had other ideas. It buzzed against her cheek just as she'd fallen belly down onto the billowy floral comforter.

Damon's text blurred in front of her, _Come back._

She snorted and texted back, _What for._

_Because I hate texting._

She sighed and rolled over onto her back to reply with slightly numb thumbs, _got drunk._

It took him a while to reply, she had nearly drifted off when the phone jerked her alert. She had to smile a little at his reply. _We're going to do this my way. Slow. And don't drink alone, it's unbecoming._

_Didn't think slow was your style_, she replied.

_We'll talk more later. Sober up._

She didn't reply and she let herself drift away.

Xxxx

Elena knew she shouldn't expect Damon to greet her with open arms and lips pressed to hers. She knew she'd hurt him time and again when he had all but laid his heart out on a table for her. It always came down to Stefan and her love for him. Since turning, her love didn't go away for Stefan but it didn't strengthen either. Instead, she felt what she felt in that hotel room in Denver every time she looked at his brother. The feel of the bed dipping under his weight in time with her belly dipping with a shock of adrenaline; the musky smell of his skin and hair as she tucked her hands under her cheek to really look at his sharp profile; the coppery taste of his mouth as she threw all rational thought off the balcony and raced into his arms.

She understood the coldness of his words and the wariness behind his eyes when she came too close. He didn't believe her and she didn't blame him.

When he sat her down on the couch and talked to the spaces beyond her eyes, she nodded slightly to every request. She smiled inwardly at the thought that she was on some trial period with him.

"We can go from there after a month. I think everything will be clearer for you in a month's time," he went on to say, his voice becoming steadier and more sensible with each word.

She nodded again, feeling like a bobble head doll and replied," That seems reasonable to me."

There was a long silence then as they sat side by side on the couch, neither sure what to do next. She couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as the weight of what was and what would be hit her. This was _Damon_ and all the memories of everything they'd ever been through played through her mind and were transformed by the fluttering in her chest and the jolts in her belly.

Xxxx

It was the little things that took Damon by surprise. He found that Elena loved to sing in the car when the mood suited her. He knew she could sing, he'd heard Katherine croon at the piano in one of her attempts to make the brother's swoon. It was just one of those things he'd never thought about her doing. Usually everything surrounding Elena was keeping her alive and keeping her out of trouble. Somewhere along the way he didn't get to really know her in all these little ways.

Somehow she convinced him to hop into her little SUV one humid night towards her family's lake house. She flipped through radio stations, grimacing at every song that pierced his skull until she pressed the cd button.

"Love her," she admitted as the husky tones of Lana Del Rey filled the air around them.

He had to look away as she sang with a small smile and hooded eyes, something touching him beyond his comfort zone. He didn't look over again until she had flipped it back over to the radio and settled on an upbeat song that she had apparently choreographed in between all of her near death experiences and fucking his brother.

She was hilarious and Goddammit she made him smile. All those times he watched her with her friends he had looked right through this. He was always so damn worried about if she'd live another day to smile again to notice that she was smiling now.

Someone pulled out in front of her and she had to hit her brakes but he barely noticed. He couldn't stop seeing her.

She whipped around the car and made a face at the driver before turning her attention back to the road.

"Who _are_ you?!" he asked in between a scoff of laughter.

_God_ the look on her face told it all. She was so so much more.

Xxxx

The lake house smelled mustier than Elena remembered, but then again everything smelled different as a vampire. She tugged at her shorts to keep them from riding up as she made her way around the room to crack open windows.

She wished she knew what he was thinking right now. He just stood there with his hands in his pockets and narrowed eyes that always made him look sadder. She wanted to make him laugh again, she'd never seen him laugh like that. Sadder even, she'd never tried to make him laugh like that before. Sometimes she had been so cold and shut him out so tightly all so she could lie to herself that she didn't _feel_ something.

A breeze picked up and as her eyes were trained on his from across the room, his scent washed around her; passenger to the wind. His smell always conjured up images of black leather, old books and the roar of old muscle cars. It almost made her smile that this was what she attached as Damon specific. She knew there was so much more to learn of him.

Elena didn't mean to but she visibly reacted to his smell encompassing her. How was it possible to pretend she wasn't feeling something in these moments when he looked at her in that way. Her eyes became heavy and she shuddered slightly, causing him to clench his jaw and drop his head back to stare towards the ceiling in an attempt to keep his feet planted to the floor.

She took a few steps forward and held out her hand, softly saying, "c'mon," and pulled him up the stairs behind her.

She opened a door that led into a little room lined with movies and had a TV placed in front of a short plaid couch. She turned to face him with a smile and said, "pick one."

His lips raised in that half smile toothless grin that made his eyes narrow in the not sad way. He surprised her with a thumb to her cheekbone and a low voice, "you drove me all the way to the lake house to watch a movie?"

"I always come to the lake house on this date. We came every year on Dad's birthday," she admitted, hoping his eyes wouldn't become sad again.

His hand fell from her cheek and his wide grin settled into a softer setting of his lips. She realized she probably stared a few beats too long at his mouth but he moved past her to look at the movies as if he hadn't noticed.

They ended up on either end of the small couch with her chin rested on her knees and toes gripping the edge of her cushion. He was taking up more space than needed, his flask giving him away when he snuck a few sips. She knew he enjoyed drinking but she also knew that it was also a way for him to numb the creeping edge that being a vampire caused you. She held out her hand for the flask that he placed firmly in her palm. Without looking away from the tv, Elena took a large swig and felt herself relax.

Xxxxx

He had picked _The Dreamers_ because it was, after all, all about her getting to know him too. No sense in pretending he liked the overabundance of mind numbing car chases and explosions. He liked Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter but he'd let her figure that out for herself.

He enjoyed the way Elena became uncomfortable at the realization that he picked out a movie centered around two siblings tangling with a new friend over sex, drugs, and film. It was on purpose of course. He liked to see her uncomfortable but more so he wanted to see her find comfort around him. He was brash, crude, and downright untactful at times and that would be one of the many things that would wear Elena thin.

"Have you seen this before?" Elena asked warily as she stuck it into the DVD player.

"Have I seen a movie with a beautiful woman and two handsome men finding their place in her affections?" Damon asked in mock question.

She rolled her eyes and curled up into herself on one end of the couch as he plopped down on his side. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to lay Elena out on the couch and thrust his fingers inside of her as she watched the lovely Eva Green move her hips in a nude dance to French words. That's where his flask comes in or he'd do it.

Elena left her lip gloss on his flask after she took her turn numbing her own demons and he let his tongue swirl over the chemically flavored gel that coated the metal opening before taking a searing gulp.

He felt that strangeness sweep over him again as his eyes were on the film, but his mind was on the girl at the end of the couch. She smelled of arousal that is so much sweeter and thick than that of a woman. He loved the confidence in a woman's lovemaking. He loved the eagerness of a girl's. God, she was still just a girl barely two decades up against his over a century of fucking and falling in and out of love.

She spoke then in that husky voice that didn't belong to such a young girl. "I used to try to dance like that after I saw this. God, I was probably thirteen. I shouldn't have watched it but I liked the title. Makes more sense to me now…"

He answered without much of a filter because his bourbon was filling his veins and she was painting a picture he couldn't ignore, "I'm sure you could dance like that now."

She shook her head slightly, sneaking a peak at him under lashes, "I know I could…"

He pursed his lips before asking softly, "Please don't look at me like that…"

Xxxx

**A/N: ****The title is borrowed from the title by The Paper Kites and is quite a lovely song. I of course do not own any rights. Also, I'm currently tangled up in another fic titled **_**Memory's Keeper**_** that is taking a lot of space up in my head but I will work on this one based on the feedback. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

xxxxx

He heard Elena creep into the room he chose to sleep in after the movie ended, though he feigned slumber. He'd snuck into her room enough over the years just to make sure she was breathing, that he felt he owed her the same courtesy.

She smelled fresh out of the shower and even caught a whiff of the chocolate ice cream she must have spooned out of the freezer on her way up to the stairs. He wanted to open his arms and let her dip under the covers with him but he stilled every muscle and felt her disturb the air with her movements.

"I know you're awake Damon," Elena stated, stopping at the foot of the bed.

He went even stiller if that were possible. What a fake, she was just trying to wake him up.

"I've seen you sleep and you are _never_ this still," she added, running a finger up the arch of his bare foot that peeked out of the blanket.

The smile spread on his face before he could stop it and he jerked his foot away. He cracked an eye and took in her button up pajama shirt, which looked more like a men's dress shirt. The light blue soft cotton hung just to her mid-thigh and she'd left the top few buttons undone.

"What are you trying to do to me…" he groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"I'm not trying to do anything. I thought the point of this little trial run was to get to know one another better in ways we haven't before…" she replied, her voice throaty like it was every night.

He propped up on his elbows to peer down the bed at her curiously. "What did you have in mind?"

She took that as an invitation to crawl up the bed and plop down beside him. His eyes behaved on their own accord and traveled down the length of her bare legs to stop at the little silver toe ring on her right middle toe. How had he never noticed it before?

"Look under the bed," she replied lightly.

He quirked an eye brow and asked as he leaned down to peer under the bed, "you aren't going to push me off now are you?"

That earned him a sweet little chuckle as his hand closed around an overstuffed binder. He plopped it onto his lap and blew at the dust, Elena waving her hand at the cloud it made around them. He opened it and noticed her handwriting all over pages and pages of paper.

"My stories," she said, moving a little closer to him so she could sift through the papers on his lap.

"I didn't know you wrote beyond your diary…" he admitted, plucking up a poem she had titled _Calloused Hands over Bumble Bee Stings._

"I used to write stories and little poems as a kid and here and there up until recently. It's been a while since I've written anything. That one was about my dad. I think I was probably ten or so," she explained.

He had to hold back a sigh, that was only eight years ago. He forgot what it felt like to think a mere near decade was so long ago. It was the blink of an eye now. He scanned over her sweet words about her father's gentle hands. She did have an amazing way with words, even as a child. He wasn't surprised by this though. He dug around for something more recent, something deeper.

"I'm going to bed, the newer ones are in the back," she hinted. She looked like she was going to peck his cheek for a second but she just maneuvered around him and off the bed.

He watched her walk away, her hair all tucked into the back of her shirt and mussed towards the top, before pulling out several pages from the back. He skimmed titles and settled with one that made his heart ache differently than it had before. He was aware of the terrible things that had happened in her life…he'd even gone through some of them with her…but he'd never stopped to really ask how she felt. That was always Stefan's territory and she always seemed so damn strong.

Perhaps he should have stopped and asked anyway. He hated the thought of her sitting alone in her room, scrawling out such searing words about loss and emptiness.

The poem hinted at self-harm and even a desire to leave this world. _The coldness of a blade, colder than his lips. Neither could take me away from this. If blood could consume him I'd let it consume me - _were just a few lines he cringed at. He had to stop as she went on to describe the _loneliness that consumed her and the dark battles she fought in the quiet places of night after she told the world she was alright_.

The next he picked up felt like it wasn't meant for him to read. Maybe she had forgotten about its existence. It was…erotic to say the least. He assumed it was based on the feelings that stirred when she learned of Stefan's vampirism.

_Like a marble statue he stands and waits_

_For his timeless beauty, dressed in blood stained lace_

_His lips to her throat and hands locked between thighs_

_Her sorrow weeps from the places deep within her sighs_

_His eyes black with want and teeth inside_

_She lets him in and atop him she rides_

_He doesn't let go until the crow calls him away_

_And she lets him forget her, silent she lays._

There was much more to this girl than he had realized.

Xxxxx

When Elena padded out of her room the next morning, she found a piece of paper with beautifully elegant handwriting covering the front, taped to the front of Damon's closed door. She sank down the wall as she read the words he wrote for her.

_Well it's how_ _I see you when I see you from below _

_And I feel no other lights or sounds or things I know _

_Only your glow, only your glow_

_So converse me with a steady tone of where you've been _

_But I know that you're a timid love beneath the skin _

_Breaking you in, breaking you in_

_I don't know you, but I know what you do_

_And I know you carry a sense of weariness I see _

_You're the one I'm wanting with the plainest clarity _

_Turning in me, burning in me_

She folded the paper and held it to her chest for a moment until his door creaked open and his hands were on her face. She fought the longing to place her lips in the spaces between his because she knew it wasn't what he wanted right now.

"I should have been better to you when you were hurting. I should have been a friend," he spoke so softly and so sincerely it literally hurt. She hated the anguish in his eyes and the remorse in his tone. She hated that she planted it there with her stupid poems.

"You were and are a friend Damon. A very good one," She said shakily back.

He dropped his hands from her face and sat almost dolefully in front of her. His legs were crossed and his feet were still bare under the expensive pants he'd pulled on. She stared at the paleness of his toes against the dark wood of the hallway beneath them. Even his toes, all long and perfectly shaped, reminded her of a marble statue. Before she became a vampire she used to wonder if he and his brother had become these perfectly carved men as they turned into these creatures of the night. It was all very Twilight but that's all she had to go on at the time. She learned that very little of one's appearance changes once becoming a vampire. She had never gotten a long and hard look at Katherine to note any differences between them.

"There's this thing you do Elena. You see a hint of goodness in someone and everything they've done wrong suddenly goes out the window and you think you can grab onto this goodness and make them stay that way. You forget that I wasn't always a great friend to you. Sometimes I was edging on your worst enemy," Damon finally spoke, keeping his eyes cast downward.

Elena blurted out immediately in response, "I hate when you do this."

He looked up, a flash of amusement in his eyes and asked, "Do what exactly?"

She sighed in frustration and said, "Turn everything into how you're not good enough for anybody. Everybody makes mistakes Damon. Even me."

He sighed and smiled a little, but it was a sad smile that pulled his eyes downwards. He said in the softest caress, "You call them mistakes but I call them choices. That's where we'll always be different."

Elena watched him stand and shuffle back into his room. She let her head fall onto the wall and she squeezed her eyes shut painfully tight. There were sounds and scuffles in his room to indicate that he was getting fully dressed. She stood slowly to gather her things so they could go back home.

Xxxxx

The car ride back was very quiet which was ok with Damon. He knew he'd hit a bump in the road with her; the first of many he was sure. Elena wasn't sulking but she was doing something close to that. It was like a semi-brood with a hint of deep thought that caused her eyes to go all narrow and lips to go all straight. Her hands clutched the steering wheel and she hadn't bothered with the radio to fill the silence between them.

When she crunched up the driveway to the boarding house, she threw it into park and turned to face him. He was just about to open his mouth to invite her in but she interrupted any chance of that with a speech she had surely concocted in the drive back home.

"Maybe you choose to do wrong sometimes but the point here is to get to know one another. You really don't know me at all Damon. I chose to hurt Stefan and pursue you. I didn't fall for you because of some mistake. I'm not spending all this time on this ridiculous trial period with you just because I think you're going to change into this perfect person. I know you're going to be whoever you want to be. I just have to believe that you're going to be the best version of yourself when you're with me. That's what I do and I won't apologize for that."

She looked proud of her speech, her jaw all set and eyes piercing his. He wasn't sure whether to hug her for the naivety that surrounded all eighteen years of her life or to throw his hands up in defeat because there was just no convincing her that her choice to dump her boyfriend was anywhere near the magnitude of his darkest choices.

"What if your best version of myself isn't what I consider to be the best? What if I rather enjoy not rising up to the expectations of others and just living my life the way I see fit?" he challenged her.

"Because I know you'll always do right by me Damon. You said that to me once before you took it away. You will mess up and you'll hurt me and sometimes I'll be the one to hurt you. Isn't this worth a shot Damon? Don't you want to try?" she pleaded with more than just her voice. Her eyes and body language were screaming at him and he had to exit the car. Quickly.

She was right behind him though, sometimes he forgot she too had the perks of being a vampire. He turned at the doorway, hand hovering above the now ancient brass knob. He closed his eyes and drew in the air around her deep into his lungs. She was driving him mad with all this fucking talking the shit out of everything. He was getting irritated. This was the part of him that would be the shitty boyfriend. He'd let her see that now so there wouldn't be any disappointments later.

"Elena, you are in all honesty annoying the ever living shit out of me," Damon spat, throwing his hands up in the air.

She looked about ready to punch him square in the jaw but she said evenly with eyes as narrow as they could get, "So you're done? This is it?"

He jerked his head back a little and exclaimed with indignation, "No!"

"Then let me know you," was all she said. It worked, it spoke volumes.

So he invited her inside.

xxxxx

_**A/N: So…I suck at poetry so I had to borrow some lyrics for Damon's "poem" from a fav of mine by The Paper Kites called St. Clarity. Go give it a listen, it's a good one. Really, I feel cheesy at all doing poetry in this but at the same time I feel that Elena's character is skimmed over a lot in the series. It's hinted a couple of times that she enjoyed writing stories but we never see much of that side of her. So I'm trying to dig deeper with these two!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Xxxx

Elena could still smell the lake in his hair when she dared to inhale him as he handed her a blood bag. They hadn't fed in a while and she knew Damon was itching to feed fresh from the tap. He liked his blood like he liked everything else: optimum. From his designer clothing, to alcohol, to the thread count of his sheets; Damon rarely settled for anything less than the best.

She knew he was being kind and respecting what he thought she expected of his feeding habits. In reality, she was curious as to how he fed. As she sipped on the blood bag she watched him drain his like a frat boy on his first beer. She was getting used to blood bags but understood his analogy of fresh wine compared to the old opened bottle in the back of the fridge; blood just wasn't at its' best from a bag.

She felt her gums pinch slightly but managed to keep her fangs from completely springing out as she downed the blood in bigger gulps. There was that nagging in the place that her vampire instincts had taken up in her body that pleaded with her to find more and from a better source. It was only relatable to that feeling of _I need that one more beer_ as a human but much more enhanced.

She cleared her throat and teased the nagging in her middle, "Can we try something else?"

His eyebrows immediately raised and he cocked his head, "I thought you liked A-positive."

She smiled and nodded at his memory and at the oddness that still surrounded conversations about drinking blood. It was still almost surreal to her that she needed to drink this stuff to survive and even more so that she _liked _to.

She breathed in deeply, taking in the smells of the Salvatore home that she had never noticed as a human. Mahogany from the intricate woodwork, citrus from the oils of the candelabrum hanging high above them, and the rich smell of the brothers that stuck to everything they touched. She loved their smell because it had come to mean safety to her. It was like walking into her grandparent's house when she was younger and breathing in their home that brought on feelings of love and security.

"What would you be drinking had I gone home?" she asked, crinkling the blood bag in her hands.

He blinked a few times as if bewildered. She was fairly certain he was rolling over the possibilities of what she meant by the question. He was at a fork; was she testing him or was she opening up some doors?

"I…I suppose I would have fed on someone tonight," he admitted slowly, his eyes piercing hers in question.

"Yes but how? How do you pick them?" she pressed on, curiosity licking at her chest.

He folded his arms and leaned back into the couch, keeping his eyes on her as he answered, "Depends on my mood. On a regular night I'd feed on someone in or around the bar. But tonight…I'm beat."

She tilted her head to the side, hair cascading over her shoulder. She stated rather than asked, "you have someone you call."

He nodded slowly and uncrossed his arms so he could take the empty blood bag from her hand. Elena watched him stand and walk to peer straight down at her. She met his gaze and knew he could hear her heart running wildly with the heat of a potential feed. She rarely gave much thought or attention to her vampire instincts. She was good at controlling herself in ways that made moments like these, when she let go, exciting.

"Are you comfortable with me calling her?" he asked, a slow smile picking at the sides of his mouth. He looked stunning in that moment and Elena wanted nothing more than to pull him down to meet her hungry lips. She directed these feelings towards the burning at her throat instead because she was going to respect his little trial period despite the ridiculousness of it all.

"Yes," she replied, wincing a little at the huskiness and the want in that one little word passing across her tongue.

He pursed his lips and stared down at her for what seemed like a long stretch of time before plucking his phone from his back pocket. He kept his eyes on her as he talked to the woman on the other end of the line. Elena felt very warm all over and it reminded her of the eagerness before making love or the excitement before doing something dangerous. She wondered if her skin was as red as the heat crawling under it.

Damon hung up the phone with a click and returned to his spot on the couch next to Elena. She wondered if this was normal and was hesitant to discuss it with him. She just hadn't had much of a chance to talk Vampire with anyone other than Caroline here and there and a little with Stefan.

She had so many questions but for some reason she felt like a child asking her parents where babies came from. She felt like she should have figured this all out by now and by asking him much of anything, she'd reinforce his opinion that she was just a young and confused girl.

He was watching her with those calculating eyes and she was doing a poor job at maintaining eye contact. Her eyes bounced around every angle of his face as he drummed his fingers lightly on his propped knee.

The woman who entered the room after what seemed an eternity, greeted Damon with a small smile. Elena watched Damon stand to take the woman's hand and bring her to stand at her feet.

"This is Elena," Damon said in a soothingly warm voice, sweeping the woman's hair away from her neck.

The woman was stunning just as Elena expected. Dark cocoa skin and the most beautiful heart shaped lips; just exquisite. Of course Damon would pick her. Elena let the instincts take over just a little and her mind pinned down the thick pulsing vein in the woman's neck. She focused on it, the rushing sound of blood encased in flimsy tissue that her fangs begged to pop through.

Damon moved the woman to sit between them on the couch. He settled her against his chest so that his eyes were peering over her shoulder and into Elena's as he darted his tongue out to sample the skin of the woman's neck. She watched his every move, afraid of missing something. She almost jumped when his voice drowned out the pulsing vein under his lips.

"I'm finding the thickest pulse so that she does most the work for me. It's less painful for them this way," he explained, his tongue resting over a spot on her neck.

Elena nodded and suppressed a gasp when his fangs slid out and eyes darkened with veins rimmed in red. She'd caught glimpses of his face, Stefan's too, when they unleashed their vampire side. She'd never taken it in before now. She'd never noticed how the blue of his eyes turned almost violet with the red flecks dotting his iris. His lips looked so full sitting atop his fangs. His fangs were slender and longer than her own. They reminded her of the way the rest of his body was built; long slender fingers sweeping hair away from necks came to mind first.

He bit down slowly, so slow that she could hear the pop of flesh like the pluck of a guitar string as he found the woman's vein. She heard the breath stream out of his nostrils and she could imagine how warm it must feel against the woman's neck. The smell of the blood that gathered at the corners of his mouth caused Elena's eyes to darken and fangs to slip out. It had been a while since she'd had anything other than blood bags and Matt's wrist.

When Damon's mouth pulled away from the woman's neck with a moist crackling sound, Elena had to back away. It took a great deal of willpower to keep herself from reaching out to touch the wetness of his swollen lips. She wanted to remember the way he looked in this moment forever. His hair was disheveled and such a stark contrast to the paleness of his face and such a compliment to the crimson, smeared like paint on a canvas, down his chin.

"Feeding can bring on whatever feelings you want it to. It can bring you great pleasure and happiness or it can simply satisfy your hunger. Done wrongly and it can leave you hungrier," he instructed, his voice rich behind the coat of blood.

"I don't understand," she admitted in a whisper, her eyes unable to tear away from the blood at his mouth.

He took a moment before answering as if pondering the perfect explanation. He was always so calculating with her even when he was being flippant. She could always see the wheels turning in his mind and it always left her wanting more of what he kept hidden. She wanted to see and hear the thoughts that ran through his mind before he chose the words to speak aloud. There was more there and she wanted in.

"When you kiss somebody you pick the mood. You can focus in on their taste and the texture of their tongue. You can take it further and take in the smell of their hair and the feel of their heart pounding against your own. Maybe you let your mind trail over memories of this person…things that bond you emotionally. Then there's the kiss that's just going through the motions. It feels good but it doesn't reach you. You can control the feed in the same way," he replied, his fingers lightly tracing the sharp angles of the woman's collar bones.

"Why would you want to do that with someone you're just using for sustenance?" Elena asked dubiously.

"It's tapping into your instincts. It satisfies the hunt. It's hard to accept for some, but we're predators and what we like the best is the hunt and when we catch our prey, we toy with it a bit. It's no different than a cat and mouse really," Damon said lightly.

Elena bit her lip, forgetting for a moment about the sharpness of her fangs. Blood beaded at her lower lip. She ignored it, darting her tongue out to sweep it into her mouth.

"Doesn't the cat usually kill the mouse?" Elena asked, raising an eyebrow.

Damon chuckled and reached out to tug Elena by the wrists gently towards the woman. He let go when she was almost brushing noses with him, the woman's shoulder resting against her chin. He had led her to the untouched side of the woman's neck even though she wanted to touch her lips against the wound that Damon had inflicted on the other side. She wanted to be everywhere that he had been.

"Find the pulse," he instructed in just a breath against her skin.

Elena's tongue ran across the soft skin that tasted salty with sweat. Her heart picked up pace in time with the woman's racing beat. Her tongue paused and then hovered over the thrumming bump underneath fragile skin.

"There…", he whispered, causing her stomach to jolt in that way he always seemed to induce.

She bit down slowly, almost moaning at the feel of the flesh splitting at her teeth. She let herself take in the smell of the woman and the sound of her breathing as she fed. The blood hit her belly in the most satisfying way and she let her body respond in the most instinctual. She knew she shouldn't give in and she should be stronger, but as she took in the final few gulps that the woman's pulse pushed into her mouth, her hands crept around the woman to rest at Damon's sides. She felt him suck in a breath of air as her nails dug into his skin beneath his shirt.

"Enough," he murmured, moving out of her grasp and letting the woman fall into Elena.

Elena unlatched from the woman's neck and immediately kicked herself for touching him. She had so much she wanted to ask him and it would be harder now. He'd put distance between them because he was just so convinced she didn't love him enough to stay with him. This was going to be an incredibly long month.

Xxxxx

Damon healed and compelled the woman before excusing himself to his bathroom to wash up. He watched the blood swirl cloudily down the drain with the stream of water from his faucet as he rinsed away the last of the blood from his face.

When he looked up Elena was standing behind him, guilt in her eyes even though she held her chin defiantly. He just sighed and stared at her reflection in the mirror without turning around. She was good at feeding, a fast learner. He supposed she was good at anything she put her mind to. It was in her character to try her very best but it was also in her character to not understand when she should give up on something…or somebody.

He saw the need in her eyes and felt it in the way she grasped his sides as she finished the feed with such precision that images of Katherine flooded his mind; unwanted and arousing all at once.

"How do you feel?" he asked, gripping the marble of his sink.

She shifted the weight on her feet and responded softly, "wide awake. "

He nodded slowly, clenching his jaw as he watched her walk tentatively towards him. He dropped his head because he couldn't watch what she might do next. It was getting to be a tired effort batting her off.

"Can I…Can I just touch you? I just need to feel you," she whispered, causing his heart to clench painfully.

He understood what she was asking. He knew the need to be close to someone after a feed. Your body just feels so alive and the vampire hunger is sated for the moment…it leaves a lot of room for humanity and the needs that come with it.

He turned slowly because who was he to say no to such a simple and sweet request. This was something he himself had kept from begging of her before.

It was strange to be touched like this not in the midst of lovemaking. She was so curious and it looked like her eyes were trying to memorize every dip and bump of his skin. Her hands were trembling at first and he so desperately wanted to pull her into a tight hug but he was curious too. He wanted to see what she was looking for in these touches.

Her hands steadied when they grasped his forearms and she took that moment to peer up into his eyes, uncertain and curious. He stood very still and let her trail her palms and fingers along his biceps. This was something new to them both and something equally important. Maybe more important than the rush of a kiss and the tangle of limbs.

This was the exploration of the dips and valleys of a body she had seen one way and now felt in another. This was Damon letting her in and letting go.

He let her trace the lines of his body under trembling finger tips and only moved when her fingers traced the line of hair below his navel. His stomach jerked under her touch and he swore he heard her swear under her breath.

"You are beautiful," Elena whispered, peering up at him under her lashes.

Fuck.

Her hands trailed, palms flat, up his chest and rested on either side of his neck. Her finger tips tickled at the hair on the back of his neck and he let out a frustrated growl, causing her to jump a little.

"I want to know you Elena, and if you keep touching me I won't be able to stop myself. I'll have you in my bed for the entire month before we get back to what we're working so hard towards here. I can't have you only to lose you. We need to do this the right way," Damon said, irritated with the pleading in his voice.

He could tell she wanted to argue, it was on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed her words though and soundlessly let her hands drop from his body and she took two steps back.

Xxxxx

They ended up in his bed that night even though he had set up the room across the hall for her. She'd crept right back out of her room and crawled wordlessly into bed with him. He lifted up the covers for her to slide her bare legs underneath and even let her have the softer pillow.

She propped up on an elbow and stared at his profile before finally stating, "I just wanted to show you that you don't have to change anything to be with me. I know I'm a vampire and that comes with a whole new territory that I admit I'm still learning. I want to learn from you but I'm not sure what it all entails. I didn't know how the feed was going to affect me Damon…I'm sorry."

He suppressed a groan. How was it possible she found yet another way to apologize for nothing and make him feel like an ass? How was it possible for her to look the way she looked in a baggy t shirt, every curve of visible skin glowing alabaster in the moonlight…

He wanted to touch the lines of her body as she had touched his, but he wouldn't stop if asked to. He didn't possess that kind of control which is exactly why he had set up these boundaries. She needed to understand that when he slid inside her for the first time that she would be _his_. There was no going back after that, he wouldn't be able to give her up. If his previous love for Katherine was any indication…there was something about these women that was entrancing and consuming.

Without sounding completely Freudian, it was like a soul only comparable to the pureness of his mother was implanted in this body that had bewitched him years ago. It was like he had a second chance and he'd wanted to take it from the moment he discovered Katherine was a heartless bitch.

Elena was so _Elena_ and even though he'd memorized every crevice of Katherine's body, he felt like Elena's identical curves were new and unseen because she lived inside of them. He found himself picturing Katherine's legs splayed out in front of him and had to squeeze his eyes shut at the thought of Elena doing the same. He couldn't go there. He couldn't even imagine Elena in that way, she took up spaces in his heart and mind that couldn't fathom the situation coming to life.

Finally the silence started to feel too thick and he responded towards the ceiling, "You did well, there's nothing to be sorry for."

"You make it look like an art form," she admitted, a smile in her voice.

He let his head roll slowly to the side to meet her gaze and couldn't suppress the grin that pulled at his mouth. She smiled back, full toothed and eyes catching the moonlight.

"You're so fucking cute when you smile like that," Damon heard himself say, immediately closing his eyes in regret. He couldn't egg her on, he should be asking her questions about her favorite color and other trivial things that couples generally knew about one another.

She just smiled wider and replied in a playful tone, "Oh don't look like that Damon, I don't take compliments as an invitation to strip off all your clothes. You're safe with me…"

He rolled his eyes and shrugged in mock disagreement.

"Do you want to watch something before we go to sleep?" she asked lightly.

He agreed and as she left to retrieve her iPad from her things, Damon allowed himself a moment to be hopeful. He let his mind push play on a fantasy of holding hands by day and living inside of her by night. He had worries and when he was with her he worried less, but in the moments she wasn't in his line of vision, it was easy to remember her face all the times he'd disappointed her. He would disappoint her again, it was in his nature.

When she returned she took a running leap onto the bed and plopped next to him, disturbing the stillness of the bed. He'd never really seen this playful side of her and it amused him. It excited him. He wanted to pin her down and tickle her until she begged for him to stop but he didn't want to touch the perfection of this moment. He didn't want to change a thing.

She didn't wait for an invitation to do so, which he secretly loved if he was being honest with himself. She just nestled into his side, her head resting on his shoulder and leaving his hand to lay against the curve of her waist. She raised her knees to prop the tablet on the slight rise of her pubic bone and against her bare thighs. He watched her long fingers slide and tap until she opened an app with numerous movies and television shows.

"What do you like, I don't think I've ever seen you watch anything aside from those old westerns with Ric," Elena asked.

They ended up watching a ridiculous amount of Family Guy which Damon had never considered Elena-appropriate. But again, he was wrong about his assumptions of her. It felt damn good to laugh like this, to hear her cackle and scrunch her nose as she looked over to share the laughter with him.

He'd caught glimpses of her like this with Stefan as he passed his room late at night. It was a side of her that was always unattainable to Damon; like it wasn't there for him. He would be jealous of Stefan in those moments and even in the moments that Elena looked sad but was tucked under his arm in bed just like she lay now under his.

"Can I sleep here?" she asked in the middle of a yawn.

"Yeah, you can sleep here," he replied into her hair.

She sat up, leaving his arm cold in her absence. He watched her lean over the side of the bed to set her iPad on the floor, her shirt raising up to reveal a simple pair of baby blue cotton panties. When she settled back onto the bed she had put the appropriate distance back between them and faced the other way.

He stayed on his back with his hands locked behind his head while he listened to her breathe. This was the closest they'd been in a bed together since Denver. How many times had he replayed that memory of her battling her _need_ for him in that bed only to give in on a balcony with terrible fluorescent lighting. He remembered the desperation in her touch, so different from the way she laid her hands on him earlier that night in the bathroom. It seemed like a different time and almost like a different person. He wouldn't let it happen like that again. He didn't want it to be rushed or hard. He wanted her eyes open and her kisses slow. He wanted her to feel what she meant to him and he wouldn't grant her release until she did.

She rolled over suddenly as if she could see the dirty thoughts he was entertaining. She tucked her hands under her cheek and peered at his profile just like that night in Denver. He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling; why was it always so hard to look into her eyes in the stillness of the night…

"Damon?" Elena asked softly, even though she could plainly see he was awake and aware of her.

He hummed a response and tried not to put too much thought into the way she sounded. Sometimes it was heartbreaking the way she said his name.

She rolled onto her back then as if staring at him was making it too hard for the words to leave her mouth. "I've been afraid to ask you this," she swallowed hard, "but I was wondering what it means for a person to die with someone's blood in their system and then remain around them as a vampire. I mean…I guess I mean, does becoming a vampire with your blood mean something?"

And there it was…

"It's rare but there's such a thing as a sire bond. Essentially I could control you with my deepest needs and desires. You'd want to fulfill them at all costs. You'd want to be with me on a whole level of bat shit crazy. Other than that, no. Unless you tap into your human side and look at it as a bonding experience, but you didn't willingly take my blood and you didn't willingly make the decision to become a vampire so I have a hard time looking at it as such," he answered.

He knew why she was asking. Why would she go from loving his brother as a human to leaving him for someone else as a vampire? Must be the blood…

"Sire bond? Like with Klaus and Tyler?" she asked in surprise.

He chuckled a little and answered, "no, definitely different for vampires and werewolves. Their siring is more about loyalty and allegiance and following their pack master if you will. Vampire siring is emotional in a way. It's about pleasing who you're sired to because you love them. Well, crazy love them. Went through it once, it was a mess."

"Someone was sired to you before?" she asked. Was that jealousy he detected? It caused a panic in his chest. She wasn't sired to him, that couldn't be this.

"Yeah, but that's not important. Elena can you do something for me?" he asked, sitting up and facing her.

She pushed herself up slowly with her arms and turned to face him, curiosity all over her face. This could end badly but he needed to know. They sat cross legged staring at one another for what seemed an eternity before he finally forced the words from his mouth, "I want you to tell me why you did what you did in Denver. It's what I want and it's what I need to hear more than anything right now."

She clamped her mouth shut at that and her eyes flashed in pain. He wasn't supposed to talk about Denver. It was their unspoken rule. If there was anything in this world that Elena hated most, it was herself when she hurt someone. She had hurt him bad with her little 'Damon trial' that she and Stefan and concocted together. What hurt the most was when he realized he failed their little test and she ended up right back in his brother's arms. She drove right back to him and left Damon to die alone. He had forgiven her for it, it was hard to be mad at someone who died that night and came back as something she never wanted to be. The girl had some beef with that bridge. It was a kick in the nuts when he learned that it was his blood that saved her life. He should have been grateful but all he felt was sadness at the look on her face as she realized she was in transition.

"I don't want to talk about that right now Damon, I'm sorry," she whispered, her face almost crumpling as she ducked her head and hid behind the thick sheets of hair that fell forward.

"I know…but you would have if you were sired to me. Passed the test Gilbert, well done. Gold star," he mumbled.

"What I feel is real. I'm sorry that Denver makes that hard for you to accept. If I could take it back I…" she bit her lip and shook her head a little.

"I wouldn't take it back either. If my blood hadn't been in your body that night and you left this world without me knowing what it was to _feel_ you…" he trailed off to avoid heightening his emotions any further.

She sighed and nodded slightly, raking a hand through her hair and letting it drop. He snatched it before he could tell himself otherwise. He held it for a long while, examining each finger with his eyes and exploring with the light traces of his middle finger.

"Did you ever take piano lessons?" he asked, peering up at her.

"No, I'm not very musical," she admitted.

Surprising considering Katherine was excellent at the piano but he certainly wasn't going to point that out. Elena probably had several talents she'd never discover because the times were much different. Playing music was no longer a main source of entertainment. Kids these days had their iPads. Perhaps he'd download a piano app for her.

"Your hands were made to play. I could teach you sometime if you want," he pressed on. It was the old buried Damon making an appearance. The one who lived so long ago when girls played the piano at parties instead of table danced.

"There's a piano at the lake house," she replied with a shrug.

"Perfect. Now sleep, I have plans for the morning," he commanded, flopping onto his side away from her.

He heard her rustle a little and settle before the room was washed in only the darkness and her even breaths.


	4. Chapter 4

Xxxxx

Damon was up with the birds and waiting for her when she finally made her way sleepily into the library. Elena took a moment to take him in before he saw her. Glass of bourbon already in hand, Damon was talking lowly to someone on his cell as he stared out of the window.

It was chilly in the room as the fire hadn't been lit for the day and the windows were all cracked open. Elena had thrown on her black yoga pants and a little pink tank top to come down the stairs. She pulled the hair-tie from her wrist to pile a messy knot on the top of her head as Damon clicked his phone off and turned to stare at her.

She wasn't sure why he looked at her like that in that moment, but whatever feelings crossed him were gone when his face turned neutral and he stated, "Welp, change of plans. Hows about those piano lessons?"

"You want to go back up to the lake house? I thought you were going to show me something today," she replied, disappointed that she didn't get to see what the plans he had eluded to last night.

He knocked back the last of his drink and set the glass down heavily before walking closer to her to say, "Unless you want to make this twosome a threesome, we're going to have to take the party elsewhere."

"Stefan?" she asked, not liking the way his name sounded in her mouth anymore.

"Yep, and while it wouldn't be a new thing for us…I just don't think you're ready for the world of," he then made air quotes and made a mock astonished face, " _you want to put your what where?!_ games with us."

Elena wrinkled her nose. He could be so vulgar sometimes. Why in the world would she want to picture that when she knew it had probably happened with Katherine…and maybe even others. She had yet to gain the nerve…or the desire really, to ever ask just how far it all went.

"Yeah, um. Lake house it is," she muttered, irritation bubbling in her chest at his smug smile. It was going to be one of _those_ days with him.

She knew this side of Damon well. It was the one that came out when she came too close to his feelings. He was hiding his pain from her and she wasn't going to stop until he opened up.

Xxxxx

On the drive there Elena talked his ear off, asking questions that only a teenage girl could possibly be interested in. After rattling off his favorite color, song, food and tv show she seemed satisfied. He was just grateful she didn't ask for these answers per decade. He liked that she forgot he had over a century of favorites.

He liked even more that she didn't wait for him to ask for her answers in return, she just started telling him that she loved maroon because it wasn't too bright or too dark and it was hard to find in nature, but still present. Her favorite song was currently _If I Had a Boat_ by James Vincent McMorrow after Alaric turned her onto it and because it made her think of unattainable love. She absolutely loved Thai food but hated sea food because it smelled horrible. Her favorite television show was True Blood.

"You're kidding," he said shaking his head. She would like a show centered around vampires. Of course she didn't get enough of that in real life…

She shrugged a little and said, "I liked the books."

"It's like watching a television show about your life. It's not challenging at all…" Damon argued.

She snorted, "It's nothing like my life, you haven't even watched past the first few episodes."

He wouldn't tell her that he'd seen the entire series so far and rather enjoyed it himself.

"It's exactly like your life. The main character is a young girl orphaned and living with her brother. She meets a gentlemanly vampire who doesn't believe in ripping everyone to shreds and who protects her; falls in love. Enter another dashing vampire who's less gentlemanly; confuses her feelings for the first vampire. Boom. Your life," he droned on, pumping his fist in the air for effect.

She smiled and turned on the wipers as rain started pelting the windshield. She flicked on the radio and concentrated on driving in an annoying attempt to change the subject. He knew this already about herself; she hated when he had a point.

He had to admit, the thought of Alaric sharing music and talks of life with Elena struck something in him. It wasn't as if he didn't know that they must have talked and bonded in the spaces between all the near death stuff and drinking at the bar with him. It was just more that it seemed different now, hearing Ric's name on her lips and imagining them laying with a bottle of something between them as he explained how a song moved him and why. What else did they talk about when he wasn't around, that was what he was curious about. How much did Ric already know about Elena long before Damon ever started paying attention? It wasn't jealousy, it was almost a feeling of loss.

He remembered so many nights that he'd creep into the house long after the Gilbert kids were snoring away just to be still and silent with Alaric. They'd pass a bottle back and forth, back and forth; Damon not caring that he could taste and smell Ric all over the mouth of the bottle and Ric not caring that Damon always took the last swig.

He missed him. He respected the hell out of that man for falling into a parental role to his ex wife's daughter. God they'd gotten obliterated one night, just shit faced drunk; ended up laughing with tears streaming down their faces at the whole fucked set up of their intertwining lives.

"_Damon..Da-mon. I'm living with my ex-wife's daughter. My student…."_ _Alaric stated, grabbing for the bottle._

"_I turned your ex-wife into a vampire. I turned Elena's mother into a vampire…" Damon shot back, shaking his head in disbelief._

"_Did you fuck her? You did didn't you, ohhhh you…you would. Don't you fucking lay a hand on that little girl up there," Alaric slurred, sloshing liquor out of the bottle as he gestured towards the ceiling._

_Damon laughed, "I'd be some mother fucker huh?"_

_Alaric looked shocked for a moment, staring with his mouth slightly agape. Then he let out a sputter of laughter that turned into full bellied laughs. Damon joined in and it was one of the saddest albeit joyful moments in his life._

"What are you smiling about over there?" Elena's voice broke his thoughts.

He turned to look at her and all he saw was what had been taken from her and what he would take from her too. He saw _her_ face and he still didn't know what that meant.

"You have school tomorrow don't you," Damon avoided the question.

"I'll skip," she shrugged, looking back at the road.

"Ric would disapprove. Don't you have finals? Aren't you doing some graduation rehearsal thingy," he asked, not really interested.

She was silent and he wondered if his tone matched his mood. A part of him wanted to spend the day with her; watch her attempt _Mary Had a Little Lamb_ on the piano. But admittedly, a bigger part of him wanted to send her on her way to all the things she needed to do to grow up while he put a band aid on whatever cuts he'd caused his brother by entertaining this little trial period with this little clone of a whore-of-a-shared ex-girlfriend. What was this fuckery that was his life?

"You're right, we'll drive back tonight and I'll head home," she finally said.

He didn't reply, just laid his head against the window and stared at the tree lines that used to blur by with human eyes.

Xxxxxx

As Elena suspected, they never went near the piano. Damon had just wanted her far away from the boarding house when Stefan returned. He was guarding his brother's feelings and it made her feel…she wasn't sure how to put it. Dirty?

She watched him put his fingers and hands on little trinkets her mother had left on the bookshelves of the lake house. They were collecting dust just like everything else in the large home that was once filled with so much noise.

"Let's swim," Damon finally stated, setting a little wooden horse down a little too firmly.

Elena felt herself immediately shake her head no. There was something about turning that she didn't really want to discuss with Damon. She didn't want to seem even more childish than he must already think of her.

He tilted his head to the side, questioning apparent in the way his eyebrows settled over his narrowed eyes. Then his thick brows relaxed and his eyes blinked into an almost understanding gaze. He nodded a little as if to himself and then reached out a hand. She stared at it, a questioning expression more than likely written on her face too.

She took a few steps forward and hesitantly tucked her hand into his.

"You're already dead," he stated softly.

How she could love and hate that somebody could know the things she didn't want known just by looking at her…she didn't know. It was unnerving how little she could hide anymore. She didn't know how long he'd seen things she thought were tucked away from the people who surrounded her, but she suspected it was since the beginning.

Xxxxx

Damon watched her eye the large body of water in apprehension. It wasn't so often that Elena allowed her weaknesses to be left on display. He'd seen her cry, yell, laugh, shake with fear…but never without a mask over it all. She had to grow up fast and she had to learn that life was tough and people dropped like flies and there was nothing she could do about it. He didn't know where she found the strength to smile anymore but she did.

He stood waist deep in the murky water that stunk of animal and plant goop and he began to question if this was really as relaxing as he thought it would be. He had in mind a nice peaceful float in the middle of the lake with Elena. Maybe it would spark some sort of conversation that would lean more towards what was really going on in that hormone raddled brain of hers. Maybe they would just lay and listen to the sounds of the water lapping at the overgrown grass.

That was, until he forgot that vampires don't do so well situations and elements of what took their human life away from them. His was a gunshot. To this day his heart nearly hammers out of his chest at the sound of a gunshot. He doesn't like to look at guns, can't stand the way they smell after being fired, hates the finality of each pop. He's learned to cope, hell he almost joined a war once upon a time. But it's hard and he can see it all over her face, she's terrified.

She had just her bra and panties on which he would usually appreciate more, but he couldn't tear his eyes off of her face. It was reminiscent of the horrified expression she wore the day he and Stef broke it to her that she was in transition.

"The sooner you face it, the better. It's not good to have weaknesses as a vampire, it puts you in danger," Damon called to her.

She swallowed hard and he fought the itch in his arms that begged to just rip off the proverbial band-aid and toss her into the water.

She took her time taking slow steps towards the water and if he weren't used to the ever passing tick-tock of time…he'd have given up forever ago and yanked her in. She made it to the water though and walked slowly towards him. He kept his eyes locked on hers, mainly because he was kind of saddened by the way her body trembled.

She stopped when the water licked at her navel and she was just a foot away from him. He moved further back, the water lapping at his neck before beckoning her towards him.

"No," she stated firmly.

"No?"

She shook her head and crossed her arms tightly around her body as if to try to stop her body from shaking under the instinctual imprint her dying human body had left for her. Had this been a day they'd be staying the night, he'd work with her until she was able to get her chest wet.

"Let's try this on a smaller scale," he flashed out of the water, yanking her to land with him, "Come on."

Xxxxxx

Elena couldn't control the ridiculous quakes of her body as Damon asked her repeatedly if she was alright. They were sitting on the cold tile of her parent's bathroom where she guessed she sunk down to once they reached the room.

"Have you taken a bath since turning?" she heard him ask softly.

"Only showers," she muttered.

"Well, that's no way to live," he admonished. She'd laugh at the seriousness behind his statement if she weren't still coming down from this crippling panic.

She watched him stand to draw her up a steaming bath complete with bubbles and a little bath pillow her dad had gifted her mom one Christmas.

"Get in," he nodded towards the water. He was perched on the side of the big garden tub, his bare feet resting on the marble step below.

She stood slowly, peering tentatively towards the fragrant water. She knew logically she was dead. She knew she could not drown in a bathtub. She knew that even if she could, Damon was right next to her. These facts did not seem to chip away her instinctual desire to flee the room.

Her panties, still wet from the lake water, bunched up between her cheeks as she sat next to Damon on the side of the tub. The coolness of the marble beneath her did little to calm her nerves. She supposed the worst that could happen would be she'd have a full blown melt down and Damon would never look at her the same. Worse things could happen.

"So..um…" she began, flinching at the wobble to her voice, "is this normal?"

He nodded slowly, not elaborating. She would try to read his expression but her eyes wouldn't stay in one spot. It was as if the threatened animal inside of her was desperately seeking an escape route. She was actually surprised at how patient he was being. He was so still, so quiet. He wasn't using words to coax her or tell her his own horror stories of overcoming this sort of fear. He wasn't placing her into the water himself when he easily could.

She came to the conclusion that no amount of apparent fear or passing of time would deter Damon's objective. She was going to have to just get in the damn tub. She slowly turned her body towards the water and pulled her legs up so that her feet were resting next to Damon's hands on the ledge. Her pinkie toe rested against his pinkie finger and even those two smallest parts of each other's body's gave her something else to focus on.

A deep breath later and she was in the tub…sort of. Her knees were bent and her hands gripped either side of the tub. Her back was straight and rigid and she was sure her face held a ridiculous look of terror.

Damon didn't seem to notice the way the water quaked ripples under the mounds of bubbles as she shook. He just slid off the side so that his knees were resting on the step and one arm dangled into the water while the other propped himself up. He rested his chin on his elbow to peer into her eyes as his fingers skimmed little trails in the water.

With time her body relaxed enough to sink back to rest against the bath pillow that was suctioned to the end of the tub. She kept her knees bent and she let out a ragged breath as her chest slowly covered with water and sudsy bubbles.

"Proud of you," Damon finally stated, his voice a little muffled by the crook of his arm.

She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief that she had been so scared to do something so simple and so harmless. The panic was nearly gone now and she was only left with the thrumming of her heart and the loosening knots in her belly.

"It must have been a terrible way to die," he said, the sadness in his voice encased in regret. She knew by the sound of his words that he must have lived the moment in his own mind over and over; imagining what it might have been like for her.

He probably even played that phone conversation in his mind on a loop, just knowing that had she chosen to come to him rather than Stefan…she may still have a human heart beat today. She'd be lying if she hadn't thought the same thing.

"There are worse ways I'm sure," she offered meekly.

He hummed a small sound that matched the forlorn look behind his eyes before replying, "at least you weren't alone."

It felt like a punch in the gut. She couldn't be sure if it was on purpose or not, but she didn't miss the meaning behind it. She had been willing to leave him to die alone that night minutes before she came crashing down into her own death. She couldn't tell him she loved him, she offered him no comfort. She realized they'd never spoken of any of that since she'd turned. Everything had been so focused on her death and her transition and her feelings.

No wonder he didn't trust her.

xxxxxxx


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the huge chunk of time that has passed. I have enjoyed messaging with some of you and really appreciate all of the feedback. It means a lot. **

Xxxxx

Elena shoved her hands into her pockets as Damon walked two steps behind her towards the front porch. Everything seemed so unreasonably loud when things were tense. The creaking of the floorboards under them as she turned slowly to face him was deafening.

Her eyes trained on his hands that were mirroring hers deep in his pockets. He rocked back and forth on his feet a few times before blowing a puff of air through pursed lips.

"Damon…" she began, not at all sure what she was going to say. How does one apologize for choosing to leave someone to die alone anyway? When does that sort of problem ever arise for girls her age? Or any age really.

He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly with a look that clearly stated he didn't want to go there right now. Of course he didn't. It would mean having to hear her explain herself and even she could admit her attempts would be feeble. It was almost impossible to put into words how the Elena she was as a human differed quite vastly from the Elena she was now. She believed it but if she couldn't explain it to herself, how could she expect Damon to believe her…

She realized she had been staring at that vein that ran just above his right collarbone that she'd never noticed as a human. She didn't know if it was because she was a vampire or if it was simply because she was now finally paying attention to all the details that surrounded him. It was pulsing steadily and if she concentrated she could hear the rush of blood through his veins and the sound of his breath that pulled in and out of his lungs.

She'd been staring for far too long. She let her eyes blink up to meet his and heard a slight change in his pulse the moment his eyes focused on hers.

He stepped a few steps backwards and nodded towards her door with a small smile, "Night Elena."

He turned and started walking towards his car, hands still tucked away in his dark jeans. She remembered that night he halted suddenly and turned back, exclaiming that if he were to feel guilty, he'd need something to feel truly guilty about. He kissed her and she let him. She liked it and she hated it. Watching him now she half expected him to turn around and do something impulsive. Something Damon.

The thing was, she wasn't the only one who was different since that night she died and he lived. He was a different Damon than the one who stole kisses and demanded she admit her feelings. He was different because of her and she was sure she was different because of him.

Without a thought elsewise, she flashed quickly in front of him just as he reached his car. She noted the look of surprise on his face and heard the clatter of keys hit the ground when she wrapped her arms around his body and pressed her cheek to his chest. She felt the air pause in his lungs and the quicken in his pulse. She smelled him; leather from his car and Earthy remnants of the lake. If this was the last time he let her near him, she wanted it to be this.

Usually when she went to hug someone in a moment of intense emotions, she always wrapped her arms around their neck, needing to be that shoulder and have a shoulder too. This was purely selfish and she hoped a little apologetic. She hoped he understood what she couldn't say with words by the way she pressed into him and held on as if afraid to ever let go.

The wind picked up, swirling around them and flustering her hair. She closed her eyes as his chest relaxed under her cheek and his abdomen pressed slowly to hers as he exhaled. His fingers were smoothing her hair from her face before both arms wrapped around her body in a tight hug. He laid his cheek on her head and she pressed her fingertips tighter into the muscles of his back.

"I need to get back, need a ride to school tomorrow?" Damon asked softly as soon as the wind died down.

She wanted to ask him to stay with her, to hold her like this through the night. Instead, she regretfully let her arms slowly pull out of the embrace in time with his. He stooped down to pick up his keys and as he straightened he lightly thumbed her nose and said, "Stop looking like that. I'll bring you breakfast tomorrow. I'll even warm it."

She swallowed hard and crossed another line by grabbing his hand that was clamped around the keys and ran her lips over his knuckles before pressing a small kiss just above his daylight ring. She didn't bother gaging his reaction or looking at him at all. She moved past him and up to her room with a speed she was thankful for. She had a lot of thinking to do before she figured out how to apologize with words. She hoped he felt what she wanted to say despite it all. She feared that no matter what carefully constructed speech she could make, he wouldn't be willing to accept it as truth. She couldn't say that she would blame him.

Xxxxx

Damon watched Elena exit the school with her arms full of books and a backpack equally weighed down. Chick was serious about studying. As a human she'd be struggling down the cement stairs towards the parking lot, but she made her way towards him with ease. He cranked the car before she reached her side and used her knee to open the door that he reached over to push ajar. She tossed her books into the backseat, narrowly missing his face.

"You look…" he began with a smirk.

"Awful, I know. I didn't get a chance to drink the breakfast you brought me and the entire day was all about study guides and Caroline shoving Prom committee down my throat. My very dry, very agitated throat," she said, clicking her seatbelt unnecessarily into place.

She looked far from awful but she didn't look like her usual put together self. Her hair was pulled back into a low pony tail and at some point she'd managed to smear pencil on her left cheek. She was pale because she hadn't fed and that irritated him.

"Perhaps you should tell Nazi Barbie to shut the…" he trailed off at her scolding look that reminded him way too much of his brother.

"Anyway, I have two days to study my ass off and then just a week after that to find a prom dress that doesn't make me look a mess," she continued in a tone that indicated that these were dire situations.

The rest of the way to her house he zoned out to the sound of her voice. She was talking just to fill in the silence because she had nervous energy she needed to burn off. She kept talking even as they entered her house and he perched on her counter as she prepared a glass of blood, nuked for approximately thirty two seconds. In moments like these he enjoyed watching her features move and change with every word. So different from the way Katherine looked, it was captivating. How two women could look exactly the same but move and form words so differently was always surprising to him.

He knew it was a bad habit to expect Katherine when he looked at Elena, but it was hard not to see her when he looked at her young doppelganger. He spent a very long stretch of time loving Katherine, living and breathing for her. It would be a lie to say she didn't still cross his mind when he looked at this girl with her face.

Elena moved past him to put her empty glass in the sink, her long hair brushing his bare arm. When she turned to face him he grabbed her chin to still her face. He loved how compliant she was now. Human Elena would have asked him what he was doing. Human Elena would have narrowed her eyes and started sweating bullets. He wet his middle finger to swipe at the pencil smudge on her cheek.

"You're a mess Gilbert," he clucked his tongue, dropping his hand and sliding off of the countertop.

He made his way to the door, stretching out the kinks in his back with a loud yawn. He pictured his bubble bath and a few more chapters of the novel he'd plucked out of Ric's collection once. He turned around to bid Elena a good evening and felt his heart melt in that way that he tried to avoid at all costs. Was it biologically possible for a man not to turn into a pile of mushy gushy blah at the sight of a girl unflinchingly holding her arms open for a hug?

He knew she was upset with his words. He knew he should have one of many talks with her to make this thing really work between them. Problem was, it all felt like little band aids over a gaping wound. They were just too split to ever fully heal. If only emotions had vampire healing powers too…

"C'mere weirdo…" he joked, holding his own arms open. She let out a small sigh as soon as his arms wrapped around her soft body and he was pretty sure he let out a sigh of his own.

xxxxxx

Elena yanked her locker open when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She smiled when a southern drawl filled her ear, " 'Lena…as your maker I command you to feast with me out back."

Damon had been using True Blood plugs ever since he found out she had a thing for the 'verse. She was beyond annoyed at this point but the more she let on it irritated her, the more she fueled the fire. He'd been referring to her as his progeny and even drawled in a southern accent when the mood struck him.

She smiled and tucked her phone back into her pocket before heading to the back of the school where Damon was parked. She slid into his car that smelled just like him and immediately accepted the blood bag he held out to her.

"Thought you could use a little brain power for your first round of exams," Damon stated, pulling out his flask to take a swig.

"I could use a little of that too," she replied, holding out a hand for his flask after she downed the blood bag.

She about choked on the liquor with laughter as he drawled, "Lena, you're makin' your papa so proud."

"That sounded more like Elvis than my southern maker," she replied, wiping at her chin with the back of her hand before handing the flask back.

He shrugged and leaned over her to open the car door, "Out with you, I'll see you later."

Xxxxx

"What do you miss most about being human?" Elena asked him as he finished off the last bite of her popsicle from her outstretched hand.

They were sprawled on the floor of her bedroom with open textbooks and notecards in preparation for the last of her exams. He didn't know why she was studying so hard, the girl remembered everything and had a sharp mind.

"Food tasting better," he replied, snatching the bare popsicle stick from her hand to toss it towards the waste bin. He missed.

"I'm sure there are other things…" Elena pressed on without taking her eyes off of her textbook. She scribbled something down onto a notecard and added it to the ever growing pile of useless facts.

"I miss not smelling every damn thing. To know whether someone across the room has showered recently or not isn't something I call a perk of being a vampire," he said.

Her lips curved into a small smile and she placed her text book to the side. She stretched her legs out straight in front of her to lean over and touch her toes. He watched her flex her toes downwards and up a few times in an attempt to stretch her tense limbs.

When she sat back up she looked into his eyes to reply, "I miss being able to burn off some steam. I'd go running or even when I had training with Ric…that was such a huge release for me. Now I can run and run and not even break a sweat. Nothing takes the edge off anymore. I feel like I'm _always_ on edge."

"What, you don't own a vibrator?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

She blinked up at him from her book and gave him a look before changing the subject, "What was it you were going to show me last weekend?"

"How did we go from vibrators to me showing you something?" he joked, rolling onto his back and folding his hands on his chest.

"Seems like a natural transition to me," she murmured with a smirk.

She was going to be quite witty with age. How hard would she slam her fist into his face if she knew just how much she reminded him of Katherine in moments like these…

"Pass your exams tomorrow and I'll show you," he replied.

xxxxx

It was the first time Elena had walked into the Salvatore home since Stefan had returned. His scent was stronger in each room and it almost felt like nothing had changed. It felt familiar and safe. The boarding house felt like an old friend that she'd lost touch with.

She was early, she knew. But she needed a moment to think.

She walked barefoot after toeing off her flip flops in the entry way, the padding of her light steps echoing against the old walls. She dropped her bag somewhere in the hallway as she entered the library. Everything was neat and tidy and she wondered why she'd never thought to ask if they compelled a housekeeper to keep the dust off of all the surfaces. She ran her hand over the back of the ornate loveseat that she had made love with Stefan on more than once. With the way scents stuck to everything in a way her human senses never picked up, she knew Damon must have known each and every time she'd been with Stefan and where.

She felt a moment of panic at the sound of Stefan and Damon entering the house together. She shouldn't have come early but she finished her exams quickly and didn't like to sit in her house alone anymore. It saddened her that she felt this way; unwanted guest and a wedge between brothers.

"Where you at Elena?" Damon called as the brothers shuffled through the hallway.

She opened her mouth to answer but clamped it shut when they entered the library. She didn't know what to do with her hands anymore so she pulled them quickly away from the loveseat and stuffed them in her back pockets. She felt like the gesture made her look guilty of something so she tried to open her mouth to say….

Nothing came out.

Stefan politely nodded towards her and murmured, "Elena," with a nod.

She mumbled a hello and even pulled a hand out to offer an awkward wave. She felt like an idiot. These men were over a century old and she was acting like a twelve year old.

"Right, well…" Damon clasped his hands together in a short clap and turned on his heel, motioning with a jerk of his head for her to follow him down to the basement. She hurriedly moved past Stefan, too flustered to look anywhere but at her feet fumbling by him.

Once they reached the musty and damp rooms hidden under the house, he led her into the furthest end and pushed open a door with a heavy creak.

"Sorry," Elena muttered, still shaken from facing Stefan.

Damon just waved her off and took to pulling an old trunk from the corner of the room. Had she been a human, she wouldn't be able to make out much of anything in the dark but her vision sharpened quickly.

"My equivalent to a binder of stories," he stated, swinging the lid open to rest on the stone wall.

She knelt down next to him and peered inside. She had always wondered where Damon kept his things from the past. Stefan's were displayed and tucked amongst his things in his room. She had always assumed Damon left his past behind him.

"Go ahead, dig around," he said lightly, grabbing an old leather jacket from the top to inhale deeply.

She spent the next few hours in her own little world, almost forgetting he sat next to her watching her every move. She finally asked questions about nearly everything she touched and he obliged with short soft answers. She wasn't at all surprised that the trunk was organized into categories. She made her way through the clothing he deemed important enough to hold onto first. It ranged from little buttons from the 1800's to his leather jacket from the 1960's. Then there was the jewelry. A lot of it belonged to his parents and probably worth a fortune now.

She glanced down at the daylight ring Stefan had given her when she noticed another ring much like it in the trunk.

"One was my mother's, this one was my aunt's," he explained, tapping her finger, "she passed when my mother was young."

Elena glanced at his daylight ring, suddenly realizing she'd never gotten a good look at it.

He must have noticed her curiosity because he plucked it right off and placed it in her hand. It was heavy and warm and the silver matched the women's rings. She felt odd wearing hers now, like Stefan shouldn't have given her such a thing.

The photograph pile must have been next because she pulled out a picture taken long ago. It still struck her how jarring it was to see her own face from a different time. Damon must've taken the photo from Stefan's room shorty after Elena had discovered it and drama ensued. She thought Stefan had gotten rid of it. Maybe he thought he had.

"Pretty isn't she?" Damon asked.

Elena let out a short breath through her nose and set the photo back down. There weren't any other photos of past loves but plenty of him and Stefan. She found one that was faded to the point she had to really squint to make out the young face of Damon holding his toddler brother Stefan.

"His Christening. God save his soul…" Damon half rolled his eyes and shrugged.

The boys both had dark untamed ringlets that their mother had surely fussed with before the photo was taken. Their eyes were familiar but the chubbiness of youth masked any other defining features she'd come to recognize of them. A fondness washed over her at the sight of them so young. For a moment she wondered what they sounded like when they talked or laughed.

Another photo revealed a woman and man staring emotionless into the camera. She never had understood why all the old photographs she'd ever seen lacked emotion. She saw immediately the resemblance of Damon in his mother's eyes. She even had the arched eyebrows and thick lashes.

"She was very beautiful," Elena said softly before reaching back in for Katherine's photo. She stared at it, wondering who gave her and Katherine their looks. She'd never know.

All these photos and items were interesting and gave her a peek at his life…but she still felt that she knew very little of the _him_ from before. How was he any different than the Damon that sat so still next to her now?

"You look disappointed. What were you hoping to find in here?" he asked with a small smile.

"No, this was nice, thank you for showing me all of this," she replied, offering a smile. She was happy to take a peek at his past. At least it was a step towards him letting her in.

xxxxx

Damon pushed his way through the overcrowded home, wrinkling his nose at the amount of sweaty high schoolers in prom garb. He spent the evening with his brother, knocking back shots and talking about anything but Elena. It was unspoken, but he knew it was appreciated that he didn't attend prom with Elena. She never asked, never hinted and Damon chose his brother.

He got her text as Stefan was ducking out to go feed on his woodland creatures. It simply read _Heading to the after party _and she left an assumed that meant Prom proved to hold these kids' attention for only so long. He assumed right as he pulled into the neighborhood. This party was going to get busted so quick by the sheriff.

"Are you an undercover cop?" a girl slurred at him as he approached the front door.

"This your home?" Damon asked, yanking the beer from her hand and dumping it out.

Her jaw dropped so he took the moment to compel her, "invite me in and then go hydrate. With water. Lots of it."

The house was narrow but had plenty of rooms towards the back. Damon stopped to straighten a family photo that dangled on the wall on the walk to the kitchen. The girl certainly looked better sober and posed. Good looking family, poor taste in decorating.

He found Elena perched on a hideous sea foam green laminate countertop trying to get her strappy high heels from her feet. The crimson prom dress fit her snuggly and the slit that ran up the side gave him ample view of her flexed thigh. Her fumbling fingers gave away her sobriety level . Damon leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and smiling at the sight of her. She looked like a picture perfect example of a prom queen at an after party. Stunning and awkward and too young all at once.

He watched as Matt chuckled and put his plastic cup of cheap beer on the counter and knelt down to busy himself with Elena's shoes. She let her head fall back onto the cabinet behind her, but not before spotting Matt's beer and bringing the red cup to her crimson lips. Her eyes met Damon's and she smiled over her cup, taking a long sip. Damon smiled back but didn't move from his propped position from across the kitchen.

Matt stood with each shoe dangling from his finger and took the cup from her hand. She thanked him and nodded when he offered to go get her a drink. Damon waited until Matt was gone through the other side of the kitchen before he walked to stand in front of Elena.

She used her bare toes to poke at his shin to the beat of the music blaring from the den behind them. He examined her eyes, not caring she watched him take in every detail of her appearance. She was drunk and happy. Tonight he didn't want to change that. He could use happy.

"Look at you…" he murmured.

"How do I look?" she asked in like. She had the flirt thing down. He'd have to fight hard tonight. He had the hard thing down.

"I've never been afraid to tell you how ravishing you look," he replied, offering a hand so she could slide off the counter. As her bare feet hit the tiled floor, he leaned over to whisper, "go play with your friends, I'll throw your shoes in the car and meet up later."

In reality he was hungry but he wasn't about to go there right now with Elena. She'd be high as a kite and hard to control. He just didn't have the energy to compel the whole senior class to forget about the bloody mess that would surely follow. Elena handed him her shoes and immediately made her way towards Caroline and Bonnie on the dance floor.

He found the hostess to the party waiting in line to use the bathroom, water bottle in hand and squirming under the pressure of her bladder.

"You feel hydrated?" he asked, taking the bottle out of her hand and tugging her towards the stairs.

She nodded, dancing around on her feet to keep from pissing up the stairs. He kicked open a locked door to the master bedroom and compelled the naked couple to get out and practice safe sex. After setting the girl down on the toilet he bit into her wrist as she sighed through the release of an emptying bladder.

"You're Stefan Salvatore's brother," she mumbled as she reached for toilet paper.

When he didn't answer and kept pulling her blood through his teeth, she continued, "Everyone calls Elena a serial monogamist."

He unlatched and stole the toilet paper from her hand to wipe at his face. She busied herself with grabbing a new wad from the roll.

"Everyone was surprised when she broke up with Matt Donovan. She changed after her parents died. You know, she lost it to Matt in my house. Everyone knew about it the next day because she bled on my parent's sheets," the girl droned on.

He bit into his wrist and shoved it into her mouth. She gagged a little but relaxed when he stared deep into her navy blue eyes, "all you remember is coming to the bathroom. You took a long and smelly dump and now you want to tell everyone about it."

When Damon found Elena again she was in the basement where it was much quieter and the company was a bit more familiar. Elena was wedged between Caroline and Bonnie on a loveseat across from Tyler, Matt and Jeremy who sat on the floor in front of a coffee table. Bonnie's head was in Elena's lap and Caroline's head rested on Elena's shoulder. There were sprinkles of other kids in the basement that Damon maneuvered through to drop down next to Jeremy on the floor.

The girls were getting all nostalgic and petting each other in that way girls tended to when the alcohol swirled in their veins. Damon felt the effects of the blood and alcohol hit him as the room felt warmer and he felt less like an old man stuck in a cliché teen movie.

They ended up playing some game the group invented years ago to pass the time at parties like these. Damon resisted pointing out the inaccuracies in the rules or the general pointlessness in the game itself. It was all worth it to see Elena like this. Her laughs hadn't stopped escaping her chest. She was now impersonating Jeremy per the rules of the game. Damon wasn't following and not really participating. It wasn't until he caught Elena's yawn that he was drawn into it at all.

They all started chanting "kiss, kiss, kiss!"

"When two people yawn, they have to kiss," Bonnie explained rolling her eyes. Even she realized what a waste of time this all was. He would kiss Elena when and where he damn well pleased and now was not the time.

"No," Elena immediately said, shaking her head.

"Then lose the dress," Tyler shot back.

"No," Jeremy and Damon said at the same time. For entirely differently reasons that was for sure, but Damon was grateful for baby Gilbert's input.

And thus the game of adolescent idiots was brought to a halt and they indulged in drinking more until it was obvious the party was growing dull. He would have to throw them a proper party sometime to make up for his influence on their game.

Xxxxx

Elena was pleasantly buzzed but not nearly as drunk as she planned on getting that night. It still stunned her just how quickly her body sobered up as a vampire. She had to keep quite a steady flow to keep it going.

Damon offered his arm as they moved towards the front door of the house and she leaned into him after accepting. He had been such a sport tonight, she knew it must have seemed trivial and immature to partake in a night full of teenage rituals, but she appreciated it and she would tell him so as soon as they were alone.

"Thanks for coming Elena," Stephanie Holcomb called to her. Elena turned to smile and felt Damon shake with silent laughter as she continued, "I took the worst dump upstairs, it smelled horrible!"

Elena scrunched her nose and hurried out the door, looking up at Damon who just offered a shrug and grimace.

"Where to?" Damon asked, helping her avoid the grass in her bare feet to his car.

She yawned and mumbled through the thick of it, "Home please."

His fingers were warm when he ended up reaching into the cracked bathroom door to unzip her dress. The bed was warm where he had been laying as she changed into her pajamas and slid under the covers. He pulled them up to her chest and ran a finger along her jawline.

She wanted to ask him to say but knew not to. His mind was on his brother as it should be. Her eyes closed as he clicked off her bedside lamp and she felt the air shift in the room as he left her to sleep off the alcohol and night of dancing.

She rolled onto her back and thought about how he looked when she saw him standing there in the kitchen of the party. He looked happy and all she could feel was that she wanted to call him hers.

Her eyes flew open when she felt lips press to hers and the bed dip from the pressure of another person. The familiarity of his taste flew back at her. Denver and cool air tugged at her memory. Her lips parted and she pressed back, her stomach jolting almost too intensely as her body responded physically to the notion that _Damon_ was against her mouth.

She reached up to touch his face but he backed away and grabbed her wrist. He turned it and placed a kiss in her palm. Her lips felt cool from the air touching the wetness he left behind. She started to thank him for showing up tonight but he captured her lips with his again, this time in a different way than he ever had before. It was slow and slick, emulating the slow thrust of tentative lovers. She moaned whisper soft into his mouth as soon as the kiss opened and their tongues brushed. And then he was gone.

xxxxxx


	6. Chapter 6

Xxxxx

Elena looked at him differently the days following that moment Damon gave in and pulled her lips into his. He let himself look at her a little differently too. He watched her watching him and he noticed the flecks of honey-gold hidden in her irises as she blinked slowly under his gaze. God these little details were so annoyingly important now somehow.

They were seated at her kitchen table with a pile of envelopes and invitations. She tore her eyes away from his when he raised his eyebrows as her pen dropped from her fingers.

"That's it?" he asked, nodding towards the two addressed envelopes.

She put on her brave face but he could read the buried emotions behind her seemingly nonchalant expression. Her pretty little features sat so still and poised, but there was a tension behind them that wasn't always there.

"I couldn't buy just a few, they only came in a normal sized pack. Usually girls my age have a bit more family to torture with graduation traditions," she shrugged.

Damon felt his chest tighten and it must have shown on his face because she touched his hand briefly and offered a slow smile.

"What?" he asked lowly, twitching a little under the weight of her cold hand. She pulled it away and busied herself with gathering up the blank envelopes and invitations. She didn't look anything but tired, but then again he was still learning all of her subgenres of facial expressions.

He watched her stand, the chair scraping loudly against the kitchen floor in the big silent home. She was still wearing her worn and faded jeans that were slightly too long and bunched up under her bare feet. He watched her shuffle around the kitchen in lazy little steps that looked more like skiing than walking and he smiled at the youthfulness in the way she carried herself.

Damon noticed the smell of blood before he saw it. It still caused a slight panic to smell her blood as if his body still hadn't caught up to the fact that she would heal now. She must have caught onto the sudden jolt of his heart and the hammering that followed because she smiled and lifted her hand that she must have nicked on something. It healed quickly and she shrugged as she ran it under water, stating "I'm so careless now that I don't stay hurt."

Her attitude conjured up a fuzzy memory surrounding the days after his turning. Stefan was fucking and feeding in their father's bed while Damon tried to live as he did as a human, his thoughts circling around Katherine. He even ran to get a rag when Stefan cut into his own skin with a rusty nail, exclaiming wide eyed and excitedly that they were invincible now. _Nobody_ could hurt them.

It was an odd feeling the first time Damon locked himself inside the toolshed behind the large Salvatore mansion with a knife. It was still warm from the grip of the young dark girl that tried jabbing it at his brother before he tore into her neck. He sliced into his skin, only the milky light of the moon peeking through cracks in the wood lighting his way up his forearm. He hissed at the pain and stared wide eyed at the amount of blood pouring from the wound. It soaked his trousers and inked up the cuff of his rolled sleeve. He never did it again.

Perhaps it was the human part of their nature that sought out how far they could push themselves before they would break. Perhaps that part never expires.

When she turned to him, drying herself on a hand towel, he noted the hardness behind her eyes. She was hurting and somehow he doubted she nicked herself by accident. He wondered what she looked like when she broke. She'd lost more people in the few years he'd known her than most do in a human lifetime. He knew better than anyone that all that comes out in one way or another. The longer you try to stay strong, the more you're going to break when that one last thing grips you by the heart.

"I really hate it when you look at me like that," Elena said, tossing the hand towel onto the counter.

He relaxed his face, almost surprised to find it so twisted with thought. He pursed his lips and said through a twitch of a grin, "And how is it I'm looking at you?"

She looked uncomfortable then and her eyes drifted away unfocused. She crossed her arms over her grey spaghetti strapped shirt and huffed a heavy breath of air. The grin slowly fell from his face but he couldn't find the words to press her further. He just watched her go through whatever thought process led her to then walk out of the room and up the stairs. He sat in silence and gazed at the ceiling as if doing so would give him some sort of insight as to what she was doing and what she expected out of this situation. He heard the door of her room shut and then the sharp click of the lock.

Xxxxx

Elena immediately let the tears fall down her face as she tore off her clothes and left them in a heap at the foot of her bed. She didn't want to cry in front of him over the things that clawed at the darkest parts of her…the parts that made her newly vampire side seep into her normal thought processes in the quiet places of night. Stefan and Damon fell in love with her as a human and she was changing no matter how hard she fought it. All the bad parts of her humanity went from creeping in the back of her mind to forcing their way into the front. It took much more than it should to be kind when she was hurt, to be understanding when she felt misunderstood…to be strong when she felt so weak.

In all honesty, she was angry that he couldn't see just how weak she was, just how much she needed to cry and fuck and bleed and scream and do it all over again. Two invitations to see her take a step into adulthood. It bothered her and she wanted to admit it to him but a memory plagued her in times like these. It was hard to admit to herself that there _were_ things that held her back from truly without a doubt believing that her and Damon would work. That he was enough for her and that she was enough for him.

When her fingers, numb and shaking from shock, dialed Damon's number that night that Stefan almost drove her off of Wickery Bridge, she felt relief at how quickly he pulled up next to her rigid body. She was shaking head to toe and her heart hurt in ways it never had before. Stefan had cut her deep and she had never really recovered, even now.

Damon was all business as usual, asking her first if she was hurt which she managed a no, then asking her a series of questions about what Stefan had done and why. What had he said to Klaus and what happened next. As she answered them all dully, swallowing repeatedly against the impulse to vomit all over the leather of his car, she waited for him to ask her again if she was ok. He did on the porch but was too enamored with the accomplishment Stefan had made against Klaus to notice just how much she needed to be heard and held and comforted.

Damon had to be strong for so long, much longer than she ever had to be. It hardened him in some ways, ways that Elena was just now starting to see in herself. Maybe it meant losing Stefan and Damon both, but it was becoming harder to be the Elena Gilbert who finally died in the water.

She fumbled in her pocket for her phone, almost letting it clatter onto the wood floor before finding some music to fill the room with. Her favorite song brought her to a time that Alaric was down the hall clearing his throat and banging around a bottle. He was a comfort when Jeremy wasn't around. If she was alone she'd head to the boarding house to be with Stefan. When Stefan was the Ripper she'd head to Bonnie or Caroline's. When there was nobody, there was always Damon.

She'd left him alone to die.

She glanced over at her vanity where Damon sat that morning that she learned she was the one that died. Not Caroline, not Tyler, not Stefan…and not Damon. _She_ died.

His blood saved her by accident. The part inside of her that wrote poetry and loved analogies fought to find meaning in this. It had to _mean_ something. Life couldn't be this cruel. She couldn't be this cruel.

She decided to run a bath, the water far too hot. She welcomed the stinging of her skin and the panic that came with the water covering her face as she sunk underneath. She fought through it so that she could remember what it felt like to die like this. Even with Stefan trying to pull her free and Matt floating next to her, she felt alone. She was ready to die and it was still a lonely feeling and not nearly as noble as the martyrs made it seem in the movies.

Her lungs hurt now, it was time to come up for breath before she passed out. No sense in leaving her lifeless body for her brother to have to drag out so she could sputter back to life before school.

She sat up and gasped at the air, water sloshing out of the tub. Her hair stuck like tentacles of seaweed to her face and she pushed them all back with her steaming wet hands. She blinked several times before flitting her eyes upwards to meet a pair of ice blue ones.

"Practicing?" Damon asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you still doing here?" she managed to say, using her toe to unhook the plug. The water started to gurgle down the drain, revealing her body slowly. She assumed he would leave; she had made it clear she wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

"Watching. Wondering. Worrying," he replied, narrowing his eyes.

"I've conquered my fear of bathtubs. Thank you," she replied flatly, not sure why she was irritated. It was herself that she was truly angry with.

He eyed her for too long and she felt awkward sitting in an empty bathtub with only her hair to cover her breasts and her thighs pressed tightly together to conceal what she could. His eyes never wavered from her gaze though, not even when she stood to wrap a towel around her body.

He followed her into her room as she slowly picked out her underwear and pajamas. She felt his eyes on her but she didn't dare look behind her to confirm. Her heart thumped around her chest noisily, giving away her discomfort.

Once she had dressed under her towel she let it fall and joined Damon under the covers. She noted he had shed his shirt and had all but one pillow propped up under his head.

He spoke to her as if she hadn't shut him out of her room with no explanation…as if he hadn't found her red-skinned in a steaming bath, mascara smudged down her cheeks from the tears. There was a change in his tone though. It was as if he were straining to sound normal and light and if it weren't her listening he'd have achieved it.

"Please tell me you have alcohol," he said in a loud and dull tone.

"Under the bed," Elena sighed.

He turned to her then and made a face that read, _why the hell is it under the bed_, before leaning over to pull a bottle of vanilla vodka out. He made another face and muttered, "gross", before unscrewing the top and gulping a good bit down.

He offered her the bottle but she shook her head no. She had school in the morning and in the state she's in right now, getting drunk would only lead to words she couldn't filter. She had a lot of words itching to come out right now and she wasn't ready for the fallout.

He reached under her pillow then and pulled out her baggy of pain pills, retorting flatly, "what, you'd rather have one of these?"

She didn't even want to know how long he knew those had been hidden there. She didn't answer, just stared him square in the eyes as he pulled one out and placed it on her lower lip with his middle finger. Out of reflex, she darted her tongue out to pull the pill into her mouth, grazing his fingertip in the process.

As she crunched the pill with her back teeth and swallowed the bitter tasting chunks, she slid further into the covers, her face even with his elbow that pressed over the comforter. She watched the tendon move subtly under his dark haired arm as he absently tapped his fingers against the gripped vodka bottle. She tucked her hands under her cheek and breathed in the smell of his skin that sat inches away from her nose.

He looked down at her; she could make out his hard stare from the corner of her eye. She decided to shut her eyes to provide a barrier as she spoke the words long overdue, "I'm sorry about…I'm sorry that…" Jesus…she couldn't even figure out how the hell to say it.

"Nope, not doing it," Damon shook his head.

She shot up, almost knocking her head underneath his chin. He brought the lip of the bottle to his lips and moved to slide off of the bed but she threw her body over his in an attempt to stop him. He just rolled his eyes and used his thighs to grasp her sides and toss her back onto the bed. He lifted the bottle again to smirk and take a sip. She angrily knocked it out of his hand, sloshing the cool liquid down his chest and shattering glass across her floor. His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched and she felt a moment of apprehension. She was pushing awfully hard for someone who had no idea what to say from here.

"I'm sorry I left you to die alone," Elena said in a rushed flurry of words, reaching for his hand that still sat frozen mid-air grasping a now invisible bottle. He yanked it away before she could touch his skin. He ran it roughly through his hair instead, a tension running through his entire body.

"Forgiven," he muttered, standing to pull on his shirt.

She wouldn't let his coldness bother her, this had to be said whether he really wanted to hear it or not. He would never let her in if she didn't explain herself. She suspected she'd never really let him in either. Not with so much left unsaid and in ruin. They had left a trail of mess behind them and neither of them had taken the time to stop and turn around to clean up after themselves.

"But not forgotten," Elena said, her voice a little shaky. God she was a wreck. Her hands were soaked in sweat and the pill decided to enter her system at the worst time. It made her slower and the euphoria made her want to throw out the entire conversation so she could concentrate on holding his body close to hers.

"No. Not that," he admitted, stooping down to gather the shards of glass one by one from the wood floor.

She swallowed hard, talking to the back of his head as he busied himself with sopping up the liquor from her floor with a discarded towel. "I get it. I understand that feeling Damon. It's hard for me to forget things too, trust me."

He froze and slowly lifted his gaze up to hers, nothing but pain written behind his steady glare. It had been a long time since Elena had feared Damon but she felt a familiar uneasiness creep over her body at the look on his face. Many times he wore this expression and it was usually followed by a warning for her to back off and quickly.

She tried again, her voice losing its strength with each word, "I'm sorry it took me longer than you wanted to realize you were the one I wanted to be with. You have to understand that I loved Stefan very much and it was very hard to let go of that."

"If you're going to apologize, you'd better make sure you know what the hell it is you're apologizing for," he stated, his eyes slightly wide and unfocused towards the door. He left before she could respond with much else but an intake of breath.

She felt the anger boil up. She felt the hurt tingle down her arms and her chest clench with each ragged pull of breath. This trial period was bull shit and she should have seen that in the beginning. He had no desire to work through everything that held him back from being with her. She knew he loved her, he'd said it before even if he did compel it away. He'd said it in other ways too and she knew she batted him off and chose his brother but he was setting this up to fail. People changed. She didn't know how to say she loved him too without telling him she was sorry first. She apparently had no clue how to apologize to the eldest Salvatore.

Xxxxx

Damon imagined he must have disturbed every particle of dust in the house with the way he slammed the front door. He headed straight to the library to fill a glass to the brim with something worth ingesting. He had to get the taste of vanilla out of his mouth, it reminded him of the vanilla gloss Elena wore the night of prom that stuck to his mouth for days. Stefan took one look at him and he knew, of course he knew. It was always about Elena and it always would be.

The fire flickered shadows across his brother's angular face and caught the amber glow in his glass that he held loosely between his legs. The room smelled of the burning wood and a hint of Elena that stuck to everything she had touched…including Damon.

Stefan remained silent with his head bowed. Yeah, he could relate.

"She's a child," Damon admitted, shrugging a little and looking towards the ceiling.

"Are we really talking about this…" Stefan replied with all the excitement of a patient waiting on a vasectomy.

Damon swallowed a gulp of liquor, washing the taste of shit vodka from his mouth. He poured another and shuffled to stand close to the fire, his back to Stefan. This was the moment he should tell Stefan that the bond of brotherhood brought him to his senses. Neither of them could have her. The girl would never settle on just one of them. She'd even looked them both in the eye once and told them that if she chose one, she'd lose the other and she couldn't bare it. If he accepted her, if she became his…for how long? How long until she couldn't bare the loss of Stefan?

"I'm afraid," Damon admitted, flinching at his own honesty. He turned slowly to face Stefan who was staring with furrowed brows and clenched jaw.

"You should be," Stefan stated plainly, keeping his eyes trained on Damon's as he took a slow sip from his glass.

Damon pursed his lips and nodded once, blinking away from Stefan's steady gaze. He knew better than to hope that karma would somehow throw some magic fairy dust his way. Just because he hadn't dove into bed with Elena the moment she told him she wanted him, didn't mean that he'd be earning any cosmic or brotherly favor. He could do good by people, or bad, and it didn't seem to get him any place new. Bad was a fuck more fun.

"Tell me not to do this," Damon said thickly, taking a step towards him, "I'll end it now. I'll end it because we both know I'll fuck it up and she'll remember all the times you never did."

Stefan shook his head and leaned back onto the loveseat, breathing heavily out of his nose. Damon knew he sounded desperate for an out. He was Elena standing on a porch stalling because he didn't want to choose one and lose the other. For once he felt for her in that aspect. For once he got it.

"It surprises me that you so quickly forget that my fuck ups are what pushed her to you in the first place," Stefan said. He swallowed hard and continued, "I wanted her to go to Denver with you."

Damon knocked back the rest of his drink and felt his shoulders droop. He plopped down next to Stefan on the loveseat, a little closer than he intended but the alcohol never did help with perception.

"The sequence of events is forever etched in my memory…," Damon replied sarcastically.

Stefan shrugged, his shoulder nudging into Damon's and it brought a sense of comfort that must be a long buried human reaction to close proximity to his brother. They had been close once, before Katherine. Stefan had at one time been a constant source of comfort on the nights their father was rough with his words and a source of support when Damon doubted his worth.

Look at them now. When they cut, they cut deep. What Elena hadn't been able to open her eyes to was that this was how it would be with either of them. Stefan was right that she deserved better…but he was wrong that they weren't good enough for her.

Stefan surprised him when he laid a hand lightly on Damon's knee. He gave a small squeeze before returning it back to his glass that sat between his thighs. Damon snuck a look at him, gnawing at the inside of his lower lip.

Stefan drew in a long breath and on the exhale said, "I just…can't anymore."

Damon nodded slowly and nudged Stefan's side with his elbow, "Wanna get fucked up?"

Stefan's response was a shrug and tip of his glass in silent toast.

xxxxxx

Elena poked her head into Jeremy's room to whisper goodnight before heading down the stairs to the laundry room. She tossed the vodka-soaked towel into the washer and pulled her phone out to work on the text she'd been editing for hours now since Damon's quick retreat.

_I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say to you, especially if you don't let me speak long enough to tell you what I'm thinking and feeling._

Nope.

_I'm sorry. Please come back so I can tell you in person._

No.

_I'm not sorry that I chose to be with him and I'm not sorry that I choose you now._

Definitely not.

She huffed and stuck the phone into the waistband of her pajama bottoms so she could open the dryer and gather the load of clothes. She tossed them onto the living room couch and started folding. Aunt Jenna used to have laundry folding nights where she'd let Elena sip a little wine while they watched _American Idol_. Elena hadn't broken the habit since then, she only folded clothes in the living room even though the piles drove Alaric nuts before he too passed. She knew it wasn't because he was anal about his surroundings; it was because when he stumbled in drunk he liked a nice clear couch to land on.

The house seemed way too big and empty just for the two of them now. She ignored the smells of pot because who was she to judge her brother anymore. She guzzled alcohol and blamed it on the blood cravings, but it was all an excuse. She appreciated that he didn't say anything when he'd find her stumbling around the house. Usually he'd coax her into a round of Call of Duty on the Playstation and laugh at the way she threw around her whole body to operate the controller.

Before Elena had time to rethink things, she was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and snapping on a thin cotton bra. She tugged on a loose fitting cream cable knit sweater and stepped into her brown calf-high boots.

The walk to the boarding house was long and she could have been there much quicker had she used her vampiric speed, but she still wasn't entirely sure what she was going to say to Damon. She also wanted the option to change her mind and bolt away if she lost her nerve, so that was the main reason she wanted to sneak over on foot.

She crept towards the house, the crickets masking her soft footing on the damp grass. She heard their voices and stopped suddenly, trying to pinpoint where they came from. She picked up on Stefan's low voice and the Damon-esqu chuckle that followed. Elena took a few more steps and keyed in on her vampire senses. It was like turning up the volume and adjusting a pair of binoculars. All she had to do was concentrate and her body obeyed.

They were silent and still when she spotted them lying on their backs, the tops of their heads touching as their feet pointed in opposite directions. They were on the roof where she had sat not too long ago next to Stefan discussing their long eternal life together. She spotted the glow of an ember and the scent of something all too familiar as Damon reached behind him to bring a joint to Stefan's lips. As Stefan blew perfect O's and sucked the smoke right back in, Damon took a long drag.

This felt odd. She wanted to leave. She shouldn't be here.

She turned to leave and stepped on a twig, flinching and turning into a statue as the sound echoed through the dense woods along their house.

"You should probably wear black if you want to go stealth," Damon called to her.

Elena turned around slowly and saw that they were sitting up and staring directly at her. She stuck her hands in her back pockets and ducked her head, wondering if she should speed off or face the embarrassment.

"We'll come down," Stefan called, apparently having pity on her.

Elena looked up and watched lights turn on and off in the boarding house and then the front door creaked open. Damon stuck his head out and he motioned with his hand for her to come in. She took one last look behind her, the need to be far away suddenly very important. When she looked back Damon was standing in front of her, mere inches between them.

"Do I need to pick you up and carry you inside?" he asked, the alcohol on his breath blasting her senses. Great, she wouldn't be having any sort of heart to heart tonight…

Elena took a step back and shook her head, watching her feet as she lead the way into their home. She stood in the middle of the hallway, suddenly very hot from the sweater and the rush of blood under her skin from the pounding of her heart.

"You need a drink?" Damon asked, swaying a little as he swung the door shut and locked it.

She shrugged and looked into his eyes. They were heavy and bloodshot, surely from the weed. She was still stunned and didn't know why.

This time it wasn't a question, he stated, "You need a drink." And with a nod he led her by the elbow to the library where Stefan was already pouring her one. He walked over to hand it to her, a slight swerve to his own walk. She needed to get out of here. Now.

"I just…I wanted to…I need to go," she stammered, thrusting her glass back at Stefan.

It sloshed a little over his thumb and he tilted his head in what she knew was concern. She felt really red. Very hot.

"You need to feed. You're coming down from the pain pill and your body isn't doing you any favors running on fumes," Damon stated, leaving the room suddenly.

"I'll cool it down in here," Stefan murmured, setting her glass down so he could swing open the large windows. A gust of air washed over her and she felt herself leaning into it. She could tell he was looking at her curiously out of the side of his eyes as he took to smoldering the fire in the fireplace.

Damon returned with a bag of blood just as she made her way to a window to perch on the sill. She took it and gulped it down gratefully. It didn't settle well though, she felt very bizarre and very warm. This was ridiculous; she really needed to put distance between herself and the Salvatores _now_.

"Stef, could you bring one of my shirts down please?" Damon asked, his eyes trained on hers. They looked so off under the heaviness that the pot had induced. She didn't like it.

As soon as Stefan exited the room Damon reached forward to tug her sweater over her head, whispering, "Let's get you out of this."

He pulled his own shirt off and handed it to her. She eyed it, sliding slowly off the windowsill and feeling almost immediately better as the cool air hit her flushed body. When she looked up to thank him she noted he was squinting with pursed lips towards her chest as if he were trying to avoid looking but losing miserably. She glanced down and inwardly groaned that the thin material of her bra left little to the imagination. Her dark nipples hardened under the breeze as she quickly pulled on his shirt and moved towards the loveseat.

Damon walked towards the entrance to the hallway but kept his attention on her. Stefan returned with speed and tossed a shirt at Damon without a glance towards Elena. He pushed past Damon and grabbed a bottle of something, nodding at each of them, "Night. I hope you feel better Elena."

She opened her mouth to say something but instead she felt her stomach give a familiar sort of lurch. By the time Stefan was upstairs and Damon had pulled on his shirt, Elena was speeding towards the open window and throwing up every bit of the blood bag she had ingested. God it hurt too.

"Thought that was going to happen," Damon said, pulling her hair back with one hand and using the other to rub small circles on her lower back.

"Please go away," she managed to say before gagging on another rush of blood from her gut. She gripped the windowsill and felt tears streaming down her face from the watering of her eyes with each roll of her stomach.

He didn't say anything after that, but his hand stilled and joined his other at the task of holding her hair from her face. After the last of it came up and she was sure her body was finished, she laid her head on her arm and groaned through a few shudders.

"All finished?" Damon asked softly, releasing her hair and putting hands on both her biceps to pull her to a standing position. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and was relieved to find that only a small amount stained her lips.

When she turned around out of his grip to face him, he dropped his hands to his side and peered at her with probing eyes.

"I thought vampires didn't get sick," Elena croaked, wincing at the soreness of her throat.

"Wrong. Vampires don't _stay_ sick. You have to take care of and respect your body just like you did as a human. You need to feed regularly, you know that," Damon lectured.

"Not having a good night, forgot," she muttered, pushing past him to crumple onto the loveseat, her head buried beneath her arms.

She didn't protest when he pulled her up and nudged her towards the stairs, starting a shower up for her.

Xxxxx

"She okay?" Stefan asked when Damon walked into his room to pour another drink. Elena had effectively downed and regurgitated the last blood bag in the house and it was too late to text his regular girl.

"She painted the bushes red outside but she'll live. No resurrections tonight," Damon muttered.

"Why is she taking pills?" Stefan pressed. His brother was trying desperately to hide his concern but failing miserably.

"She's fine," Damon shrugged, taking a long sip from his glass and taking a seat at Stefan's desk. He propped his feet up on the clutter and creaked back into the chair.

"That isn't like her, I know you don't want to hear it but she's been off since turning. I'm worried Damon," Stefan continued.

This was killing his buzz and reminding him why he didn't want to deal with this in the first place. He tapped his feet a little and crossed them, crumpling some papers underneath in the process. Stefan sighed heavily in protest.

"Who isn't different when they turn? Did you murder people when you were a human? I didn't. In fact, I was a rather gentle lad if I'm recalling it correctly. Shit happens," he held his glass up and widened his eyes to make a point that it wasn't worth a discussion.

"I'm aware Damon. I just…she wouldn't…" he trailed off so Damon finished his sentence for him. He knew what Stefan was trying to say even if he didn't, "She wouldn't like the way she is now. She never wanted this. Blah blah blah. Well. Here we are and this is who she is."

Damon continued, "The good thing is that she's more like us now…meaning she's more likely to understand the darker sides to who we are. Maybe it'll make it easier for her to, I don't know, look past you nearly running her off of a bridge or me snapping her brother's neck. Think I could earn her respect now brother?"

Stefan looked sad then and Damon felt a twinge of regret at the lack of compassion in his truths. But that's what they were; truths. He knew his brother picked up on the reference but wasn't surprised when he said nothing.

"Look…" Damon stated, trying out a softer tone and speaking with all the kindness his drunken and tired heart could muster, "Elena is still Elena. You know that."

Stefan sat up and stared at his feet on the end of the bed as he replied, "I know. I just didn't want this for her. She _is_ different Damon, and I don't know what to do with that. She didn't give up on me when I turned off my humanity, I feel like I've given up on her.

Damon nodded slowly, taking the last gulp and setting his glass down heavily on the floor next to him, the chair groaning in protest, "Nobody has given up on anybody. I think she's more alive than ever," he turned to look at Elena who he knew had been standing in the doorway for a few minutes, "I like her just the way she is now."

xxxxx

Elena watched Damon walk around his dimly lit room after he tugged the covers to her chin and ran a finger down the bridge of her nose in an almost friendly gesture. She closed her eyes but couldn't seem to keep them shut knowing he was awake and moving around her.

He was in nothing but a pair of loose fitting black pajama pants that sat below the jut of hipbones. She tried to picture him as a human in the 1800's and as always she failed. She couldn't imagine him any other way. The only hint of who he was snuck through in his fancy handwriting and even sometimes his sentence structure when he was drunk and forgot to wear his vampire Damon mask.

It still felt strange to be in his room, in his bed. It wasn't often she had ventured in here and when she did she was usually occupied with trying to appear uninterested and unaffected.

"Shall I turn down the bed for you?" she asked in a terrible accent, trying to prompt some sort of 1800's Damon to join her. He seemed drunk enough.

He had just finished hanging up some shirts he had laid across a chair and poked his head out of the closet, "are we role playing?"

She smiled and sat up, her still damp hair falling in waves over her shoulder. She watched Damon's face as his eyes focused on her. He walked slowly over to the bed and cupped her cheek in his hand, tilting her face this way and that as if he was inspecting it. He dropped his hand and climbed into bed over her, nearly kicking her face with his bare foot.

"Tell me about the 1800's," she asked softly, not wanting to disturb Stefan in the room down the hall.

"How did you know I was thinking about the 1800's?" Damon asked, pulling the pillow behind her away and trading it with the one under his head. She smiled at that.

"Maybe that's another thing that changed when I turned, I obtained psychic abilities," she deadpanned.

He didn't smile though, he just reached out and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and frowned. She slid slowly down to lay on his pillow that truly was significantly more comfortable than the one she originally had and he traded her for.

"It's just hard for him. Try to remember how it felt to watch him change so much when he was The Ripper," Damon explained softly, still eying her hair.

She wondered if either of them knew how often they stood up for one another when it came to her feelings against one of them. She nodded anyway, watching him blink his dark lashes. They were so thick, she wanted to feel them against her cheek.

"1800's…" Damon began, tapping his chin thoughtfully before running a finger absently over his bottom lip.

She smiled and settled with her hands beneath her cheek to watch him talk.

He talked about his daily life and the people that he knew. It was a lot of the same sort of details Stefan brought up when she'd been able to get him to talk about his past. Damon talked about the Gilberts, the little that he remembered of them. When he talked about his family his eyes looked far away and his voice seemed so small.

"I'm sorry," he suddenly said, placing a warm hand on the side of her hair, his thumb resting on her cheek bone and fingers grasping the back of her head, "your hair is really distracting me. You just…you look a lot like her right now like this and talking about these things…"

Her mouth parted in surprise; sometimes she truly forgot that she was the spitting image of his past love. It was another painful reality that shouldn't mean anything but sometimes it did.

"Can I ask you something?" she finally asked as his hand dropped from her hair and ran down her arm before he tucked it away under his cheek.

"You aren't her, I need to stop seeing her," he replied. His voice was so low and soft it reminded her of the time she sat with him as he was dying from a werewolf bite. She'd been there with him that time and it hurt. It was unbearable.

"Have you ever loved anyone like you loved Katherine?" Elena asked, hoping he'd let her go somewhere further with this. It was important that she get to a point she was holding onto. It was the only other way she knew how to apologize.

She watched his eyes scan lazily over her face and along the gentle waves that lay across her cheek and draped under her chin. It was one of those moments it struck her just how beautiful he was and just how lucky he was to freeze time at this precise age with the subtle lines of time beginning to show just enough. She imagined he'd be just as beautiful if not more if time carried him further with laugh lines and salt and pepper hair. She wished in that moment that she looked differently, not like her, not a reminder of what was lost. She wanted him to look at her face and discover it just as she was discovering his. She didn't even want to know the amount of times he lay just like this with Katherine, taking in every detail of her face and tasting the salt on her skin as they made love.

"I think there are different kinds of love and no two are the same," Damon finally replied shutting his eyes briefly.

"And sometimes love changes because people change," Elena added.

He blinked a few times before focusing on her. The whites of his eyes had lost the heavy redness from earlier but she could see how tired he was. The smell of whiskey still swirled around her face every time he exhaled and it made her think of Alaric. Sometimes she had laid next to Ric as he slowly succumbed to an alcohol induced sleep. It was the only time he let her that close, he was always so wary of close contact. She knew it was because he was uncomfortable with crossing boundaries. He wasn't her father and he wasn't quite just a teacher either. Being close to another body was one of the few things that kept her mind from dwelling too long in all the dark places. Being close to Damon had proven to be a huge source of comfort to her lately. She felt lost and afraid of what the future held. She couldn't imagine forging ahead without him anymore.

He said nothing and she knew he understood where she was taking this. She took his silence as permission to give it a try.

"If I can trust that you will love me more than you loved Katherine…_differently_ than Katherine…I think you can trust me to make this choice," Elena explained, licking her lips at the dryness the lack of blood and sleepiness brought on.

Damon closed his eyes again but this time it was to mask a pained look. Elena's heart fell and knew that she was too late. They were too far gone now.

"Let's get some sleep," he finally mumbled through a stifled yawn.

She agreed with a small nod but that didn't stop the painful feeling that settled in her chest the entire night.

Xxxxx

Damon left her in the bed that morning and walked into the kitchen to find several blood bags set out next to his coffee mug in a small cooler. Stefan must have done a run. He listened for his brother and picked up on the sound of water outside.

The birds were excruciatingly loud this morning and Damon couldn't wait to sip at his warm mug full of blood to speed up the hangover healing process. He strolled to the end of the front porch to lean over and watch as Stefan hosed down the bushes Elena had sprayed all over the previous night.

"She feeling better?" Stefan asked over the splash of water.

"She feels fine," Elena's voice called from behind Damon. Damon turned to see her wrapped up in one of his old sweat shirts that hung just above her bare knees. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, stray baby hairs curling slightly around her face.

Damon handed her his mug and she took it graciously, almost chugging it down. He watched Stefan unscrew the hose from the side of the house and wrap it up.

"Need a ride to school?" Stefan asked as his boots crunched on gravel past the porch.

Elena shook her head no and said after swallowing a mouthful, "No. Thank you. I think I'm going to go home and get some rest today. I may check in for a half day."

Stefan nodded and gave them a half-hearted wave goodbye as he wheeled his motorcycle from the smaller garage and cranked it noisily.

Damon turned to go inside, holding the door open for her. Elena stepped inside and immediately headed up the stairs, the sweatshirt riding up with each step.

"Come find me before you leave," he told her fleeting figure.

After nuking some more blood and chasing it with a touch of whiskey, he was feeling close to normal again. He sighed and settled at the old desk in the study and the pile of bills that were still in Zach's name. He had gotten rather good at forging his dead great great nephew or something or another's name.

After completing a little over half the stack, Damon glanced towards the silent hallway, deciding it had been quite sometime since he'd heard the light thumps of Elena's movements in the rooms above. Once he crept up the stairs he found her curled up on top of the bed she must have made up before she came down earlier. Her back was to him but he could tell by her steady breathing that she had fallen asleep.

She was out because when he moved to tug the sweatshirt over her exposed white cotton panties, she didn't even stir. He decided to leave her be, there were things he could busy himself with for the day until she woke.

Xxxx

Elena was surprised she had slept so long. It was too late to check into school so she dressed in her jeans and sweater from last night but left her feet bare to pad down the stairs. She found Damon leaning over a stack of papers in the study at the antique wooden desk. He kept his eyes on whatever he was scrawling on even though she knew he heard her enter the room.

"Hey," she said softly, dropping into a chair in front of the desk.

"Hey," he responded softly. He looked up with just his eyes and offered a small smile before he returned his attention back to the papers.

Elena watched him for a moment before letting her eyes scan over the small room. It was dark just like all the others, filled with wooden shelves and bookcases.

"What's your middle name?" he asked without looking up.

"Marie," she answered, her voice thick with sleep. "Why?" she asked, leaning forward when she saw him scrawl something down.

He dropped his pen and stretched his arms above his head, wiggling his fingers as he yawned a, "just curious."

He let his hands fall palms down on the desk and he stared at her. She silently stared back, bringing her knees up to rest under her chin. Her toes gripped the edge of the chair and she absently twisted her toe ring with her fingers. She noticed his lips twitch into a grin that he tried to mask with pursed lips.

"What?" she asked.

"You," was all he said. He just shrugged when she quirked an eyebrow in question.

Xxxxx


End file.
